


hit your hallelujah

by BabyVillanelle



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Piano, basically a jigyu romcom, chat fic elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23033377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyVillanelle/pseuds/BabyVillanelle
Summary: “You guys know other people like, respect me, right?” Jihoon said bitterly, crossing his arms, “There was a whole article about me in TIME that called me ‘The Greatest Pianist of our Generation’?” Soonyoung looked down at Jihoon’s crotch with his eyes wide. Mingyu hit him on the back of the head.“Pian-ist,” Mingyu said clearly, “He said pian-IST.”“Ooohhh,” Soonyoung said, rubbing at his head, “That makes more sense.”“Oh my god,” Jihoon groaned, “I can’t believe this is my life now.”ORMingyu's happy with his job as a stagehand for the local orchestra until pretentious, world-famous concert pianist Lee Jihoon comes to town for a three-month residency.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 64
Kudos: 289





	1. tell me what i'm waiting for

“How have you been working at a concert hall for two months and you still cannot name a single composer?” Minghao half-yelled at Mingyu.

Mingyu narrowed his eyes and thought really, really hard. He sat up, raising one hand. 

“Beethoven!” he exclaimed, feeling fairly proud of himself and collapsing back onto the rug.

Jungkook and Yugyeom exchanged amused glances over his head. Jungkook started to giggle. 

“You thought for that long and all you could come up with was ‘Beethoven’?!” Yugyeom sighed, covering his face with his hand. Mingyu pouted. 

“Shut up,” he said defensively, “I’m drunk.”

“Even if you were sober, I bet you twenty-five dollars that you couldn’t name one more composer,” Minghao said. 

“You’re not even that drunk,” Jungkook said, nudging him in the ribs with his toes. 

“Don’t touch me with your weird toe-socks,” Mingyu complained, squirming away from Jungkook’s feet. 

“They’re not weird!” Jungkook whined, “They give you better grip!” 

“What are you gripping with your toes!?” Mingyu shouted, horrified. 

“You’re just trying to distract us from your embarrassing lack of knowledge about classical music,” Minghao interjected. 

“Yo-yo Ma!” Yugyeom shouted from the opposite couch. The rest of the boys stared at him blankly. 

“Yo. Yo. Ma.” Yugyeom repeated, “He’s a famous cello player.” 

“I think they’re called cellists,” Jungkook said quietly. 

“Yuck,” Mingyu said, pouting up at Yugyeom from the floor, “Who knows that? Why do you know that?” he rolled over so he was face down on the rug, “I expected this from Kookie, he’s married to a nerd, but not you!” 

“We’re not married,” Jungkook protested, and at the same time, Yugyeom mumbled something that Mingyu didn’t quite hear. Mingyu lifted his head up. 

“Not  _ yet _ ,” he said to Jungkook, then to Yugyeom, “What was that?” 

“I said he was on an episode of  _ Arthur _ ,” Yugyeom said sheepishly.

“Namjoon was on an episode of  _ Arthur _ ?” Mingyu said, furrowing his brow. The room erupted into shrieking laughter, just in time for Jungkook’s boyfriend to come into the apartment. He froze in the doorway, surveying the scene with wide eyes, hand still on the doorknob. 

“Hi, babe,” Jungkook said, tilting his head back to look at Namjoon. 

“Hey, guys,” Namjoon said nervously. 

_ Poor guy,  _ Mingyu thought. He had to put up with Mingyu and the rest of the guys almost every Friday when Mingyu was sure he’d rather be reading or stargazing or whatever Namjoon did when he was alone. Mingyu was fairly certain the man had a bonsai tree. 

Mingyu waved at him enthusiastically from his spot on the floor so that Namjoon would feel welcome. 

“Mingyu doesn’t know who Beethoven is,” Minghao accused. Namjoon just raised his eyebrows as he walked over to Jungkook and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Oh?” Namjoon asked, eyes still only on Jungkook

“I know who  _ Beethoven  _ is, asshole,” Mingyu protested, flipping Minghao the bird, “I just am… unaware of the work of his contemporaries.” 

“That’s just a pretentious way of saying that you don’t know shit about dick,” Yugyeom said pointedly. Mingyu grinned his best shit-eating grin. 

“I know  _ plenty _ about dick, Yugs,” he said, making Minghao cackle and Jungkook squeal with embarrassment. 

“I’m  _ so sorry _ , baby,” Jungkook said to Namjoon, covering his face. 

“S’okay,” Namjoon said, “I’m used to it.” 

At ten, Mingyu stretched and started to say his goodbyes. 

“Sorry guys,” he said, ruffling Minghao’s hair, “We gotta go. I have to be at work early. There’s some big-name piano player coming in for the holiday concerts.” 

“Pianist,” Jungkook corrected quietly. 

“Right. Penis,” Mingyu responded, nodding sagely. Jungkook threw a cup at him. Mingyu caught it and threw it back, laughing. 

“What pianist?” Namjoon asked, perking up. 

“Uhh...Lee something?” Mingyu said, thinking, “Jisoo? Or Jihoon? Maybe?” 

Namjoon gaped at him. 

“Lee Jihoon?” 

“Um. I think so?” Mingyu said, “Why? Do you know him?” 

“Know him? Joonie has a  _ crush _ ,” Jungkook teased, poking Namjoon’s cheek, “He has all his albums. There was an article in the New Yorker a few weeks ago and I caught him cutting out his picture and putting it in his notebook.” 

Namjoon just shrugged as they all turned to look at him. 

“Yo,” Yugyeom said, finishing his drink and slamming his cup down on the table, “He’s that young Korean kid, right?” 

“Yeah,” Namjoon said dreamily, “He’s been playing internationally since he was like, sixteen.” 

“I don’t blame you, then,” Yugyeom said, nodding, “He’s hot.” 

“I don’t like him ‘cause he’s hot!” Namjoon protested, a wistful look coming over his features, “He’s a genius. He has this totally unique style of playing.” 

Jungkook looked at Namjoon, enamored. Mingyu caught Yugyeom’s eye and mimed throwing up. Minghao and Yugyeom cracked up. 

Mingyu headed for the door, and Minghao got up to follow him, zipping up his coat. 

“Bye guys!” he said, waving, “I’ll try to get Jihoon’s autograph for you, Namjoon.” 

“ _ Oh, god _ ,” Namjoon mumbled, “Please don’t.” 

Mingyu winked and blew them all a kiss. 

* * *

“The instruments arriving today for our Handel and Haydn series are over two-hundred years old,” Mingyu’s boss was saying the next morning as Mingyu blinked his eyes hard and tried to stay awake, holding himself up on Wonwoo’s bony shoulder, “So please, pay attention. Yes, they are insured, but most of them are irreplaceable.” 

Mingyu took a sip of his iced coffee and caught Seungcheol’s eye from across the conference room. He mimed fumbling something and dropping it onto the floor, mouth wide in mock horror. 

Seungcheol smiled, but looked around nervously, not wanting to get in trouble. Mingyu rolled his eyes. 

“ _ Nerd,” _ he mouthed at Seungcheol.

“Kim!” his boss called, “Can you tell me what I just said?” 

“Uhh,” Mingyu stalled, glancing next to him at Wonwoo, who refused to meet his eye, “Don’t drop the pianoforte?” 

All the other stagehands giggled. Even his boss grinned reluctantly. 

“ _ Essentially _ , yes,” his boss nodded, “Gloves, wear them. Copies of the set list and instructions on which instrument goes where and when are by the door. Memorize them. People are paying a lot of money to see this concert series. We have big names on stage. We’re really lucky to be allowed to use these instruments.  _ Please _ don’t break them.” 

He looked around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes, then directed the next part of his speech at Mingyu, and then at Wonwoo, and Soonyoung, who was leaning on Wonwoo’s other shoulder, blatantly falling asleep.

“And please,  _ please _ , don’t piss off the musicians,” he said. His tone was less scolding and more pure desperation. In response, Soonyoung giggled sleepily and Mingyu pretended to be horribly offended, clasping at his chest. Wonwoo just stared up at the ceiling. 

“Okay!” his boss called, clapping his hands for emphasis, “That’s it. The truck will be here in three hours. Go make sure the storage rooms are ready.” 

He gave one final, pointed look at Mingyu and Soonyoung, and left the room. Soonyoung rounded on Mingyu right away. 

“That was embarrassing for you.” 

“Me?!” Mingyu protested, “He was talking about  _ you!  _ I’m not the one who got caught threatening to choke a flute player last week.” 

“In his defense,” Wonwoo said in his deep, calm voice, “The flute player was Seungkwan. We’ve all threatened to strangle Seungkwan.” 

“Not to his face,” Mingyu reminded him. 

“That was my mistake,” Soonyoung sighed, stretching lazily, his shoulders popping. 

They collected Seungcheol and headed to the climate-controlled storage room in the basement where the oversized instruments would be kept for the next few weeks. 

As far as Mingyu knew, the room was supposed to be locked and empty, but when they got there, the door was ajar and light was spilling out into the hallway. Mingyu opened the door the rest of the way to find someone standing in the center of the room, staring up at the ceiling pensively. 

“Hey!” Mingyu said, “You can’t be in here.” 

The figure turned around. Mingyu’s immediate thought, embarrassingly, was, “ _ Oh no, he’s hot!”  _ which he was pretty sure was from some stupid Spongebob meme that Yugyeom had sent him.

His second thought was that this guy was going to make Mingyu’s life miserable. 

He was small, maybe a foot or more shorter than Mingyu. He had short, dark hair that was parted neatly and styled with a soft gel. He was wearing an off-white turtleneck over well-tailored black pants that fell right at his ankles. His shoes were black, polished, and looked like they cost more than Mingyu’s laptop. And yes, fine, he was shockingly pretty, but his sharp, delicate features were overshadowed by his impressively intimidating scowl. 

Rich, pretty, and scary. Before he even spoke, Mingyu’s defenses were up. He took a step forward into the room. 

Seungcheol was tugging on the back of Mingyu’s shirt, but he shrugged him off. 

“It’s too warm in here,” the new guy said, ignoring Mingyu’s words entirely, “And when was the air filter last changed?” 

Mingyu stiffened. Soonyoung inhaled sharply next to him. Seungcheol poked him in the back, more insistently. Mingyu ignored him. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Mingyu responded coldly, “But I was coming in here to change the filter. And we don’t turn the AC on unless we have instruments in here. You know, to conserve energy.  _ Save the planet _ and all that.” 

The stranger’s eyes narrowed. Seungcheol was full-on smacking Mingyu in the back now. 

“What?” Mingyu said, and Seungcheol stepped around him, throwing Mingyu a wide-eyed desperate glance before turning to the new guy. 

“Mr. Lee,” he said respectfully, “It’s an honor to meet you. I, personally, will ensure the safety of the instruments.” 

Mingyu’s heart sank.  _ Lee. Lee Jihoon.  _ This was  _ Lee Jihoon _ . He was so going to get fired. He glanced at Wonwoo, who was giving him a bland look that clearly said, “ _ You are so going to get fired _ .” 

Seungcheol continued, “The truck with the instruments is arriving soon and I’d be happy to let you accompany us and oversee the unloading, if you’d like.” 

Mingyu watched Jihoon’s face carefully. At the end of the day, he truly didn’t care if Jihoon was rude to him, but if he was rude to Seungcheol, who had never done anything wrong in his life, Mingyu might have to kill him. And then he’d  _ definitely _ get fired. 

But, surprisingly, Seuncheol’s signature charm seemed to have worked on Jihoon. He nodded curtly, and Seungcheol responded with a boyish smile. He led Jihoon out the door with one final, warning look at Mingyu and Soonyoung. The door closed behind them and Mingyu heaved out a sigh and covered his face with his hands. 

“You’re so fucked,” Soonyoung said gleefully, “I can’t believe you didn’t recognize him.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” Mingyu whined from behind his hands. 

“Dude,” Wonwoo sighed, “He’s the face of our new ad campaign. His picture’s been in the subway for a  _ fortnight. _ ”

Soonyoung draped himself over Wonwoo’s shoulder and held up two fingers,

“That’s two weeks.” 

“Wow,” Mingyu groaned, “I’m an idiot.” 

“I’ve been saying that since we met,” Wonwoo said sagely, patting Mingyu on the back.

* * *

Mingyu was sweating a lot. Going back and forth from the storage room to the loading dock involved three flights of stairs, and it was killing him. He was strong, and physical labor didn’t usually bother him, but the added stress of trying not to drop two hundred year-old irreplaceable instruments was getting to him. 

And then there was Jihoon. He had planted himself on the loading dock, out of the way, but still firmly in the line of sight of the truck. His appearance was one issue. He looked so clean-cut, in his expensive clothes and well-styled hair. He looked out of place among the stagehands, who were all in black t-shirts and dark cargo pants. 

The second issue was his face. He was watching the movement of every instrument like a hawk, but his emotions were completely unreadable. It was driving Mingyu insane. 

“Just ignore him,” Wonwoo had said when Mingyu complained during one of their trips of the stairs. 

But Mingyu couldn’t. He was currently standing in the truck, trying to figure out how to lift up the cello in front of him without dripping sweat all over the case. He could feel Jihoon’s eyes on him and it was making his skin itch. 

_ He doesn’t even fucking play the cello,  _ Mingyu thought angrily,  _ Why does he care if I fucking drop it?  _

Mingyu did vaguely remember that something was significant about this cello. It was on the first page of the packet that Seungcheol had tried to make him read while they were waiting for the truck. Maybe fucking Bach had made it or something. Bach! Another composer he knew! He made a mental note to text his group chat later. 

The truck shook as Soonyoung lept straight into it from the loading dock. 

“There’s a  _ ramp  _ right there _ , _ ” Mingyu said, exasperatedly. Soonyoung just shrugged and pointed at a strangely shaped case in the corner. 

“What the fuck is that?” he asked, breathing heavily, hands on his hips.

“No idea,” Mingyu responded, “It’s probably in Cheollie’s packet, though.” 

“What packet?” Soonyoung asked, pushing his sweaty hair back off of his face. 

“The packet he gave all of us. The packet he said was  _ very important _ , the packet that is literally in your pocket right now,” Mingyu said, pointing at Soonyoung’s cargo pants. Soonyoung looked down in surprise, patting at the paper. 

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “I thought that was a joke.” 

“You thought Seungcheol typed up a novel-length informational packet as a joke?” Mingyu said incredulously. Soonyoung just shrugged again and hoisted the odd instrument case up onto his shoulder and headed for the stairs, whistling to himself. 

Mingyu shook his head, then grabbed the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. When he looked up again, he made eye contact with Jihoon. He was staring at Mingyu and scowling.  _ Jerk.  _ Mingyu grinned widely and waved exaggeratedly, making Jihoon scowl even deeper and turn away. 

* * *

**Group MMS: The 97s:**

**Mingyu:** BACH!!!!

**Mingyu:** Also kook tell ur husband lee jihoon is a pretentious jerk 

**Minghao** : my 8 yr old cousin knows who bach is

**Jungkook** : im not gonna crush my man’s dreams like that

**Yugyeom** : what’d he do to you, gyu?

**Mingyu** : :( :( he was rude!! Not to anyone else! Just me!! 

**Yugyeom** : aw poor pup!

**Jungkook** : want us to kill him? 💪

**Jungkook** : Omg pls don’t tell joonie i said that

* * *

  
The next morning, Mingyu walked in the employee entrance of the theatre and was halfway down the hallway when Soonyoung came leaping down the stairs three at a time and landing in a half-crouch at the bottom. 

“ _ You- you gotta- _ ,” he said, panting, “You gotta see this, c’mon.” 

He led Mingyu across the basement underneath the audience’s seats, and up the back employee staircase. They came out on the top balcony, where Wonwoo was already leaning on the railing. He looked over his shoulder with an expression of pure glee. He waved them over rapidly. 

“Is that  _ Joshua?”  _ Mingyu asked, bracing his arms on the balcony. 

“Yup,” Soonyoung said. 

“What is he holding?” Mingyu asked, peering closer. 

“I have  _ no  _ idea,” Wonwoo said, grinning, “But it’s beautiful.” 

Joshua was one of the core orchestra members. He played most string instruments, but usually the violin or the viola. He was sitting center stage, legs spread wide, playing a comically proportioned string instrument that Mingyu had never seen before. The body was as big as Joshua’s torso and the neck had to be at least five or six feet long. To top it all off, Joshua was wearing an enormous red beret over his tousled brown hair. 

Mingyu started giggling and then couldn’t stop. He thought he might cry. 

“He looks like a minstrel,” Wonwoo said. Soonyoung fell to his knees, covering his mouth to muffle his laughs. 

“I  _ know _ ,” he squealed, face red.

“He looks…” Mingyu thought for a second, “Like a cartoon mouse that made a banjo out of a pinecone.” 

Soonyoung half-laughed, half-moaned from behind his fingers, and Wonwoo’s shoulders shook with laughter. 

“You guys didn’t read my packet, did you?” 

Mingyu turned around to see Seungcheol in the doorway, pouting, his headset around his neck. 

“ _ Cheollie _ ,” Mingyu gasped, “I love you, but that thing was eighty pages long.” 

“I skimmed it,” Wonwoo said quietly, and Mingyu patted him on the back appreciatively. 

“Wonwoo skimmed it!” Mingyu exclaimed, pointing down at Wonwoo. Seungcheol just frowned. 

“Gee, thanks,” Seungcheol said, hopping down the velvet stairs, “That’s called a  _ theorbo,  _ by the way. It’s in the lute family. You guys really have to take this job more seriousl-” 

He trailed off into open-mouthed silence as he looked over the railing and down onto the stage. His eyes got wide and his mouth twitched as he tried to control his expression. 

“Wow,” Seungcheol whispered, “ _ Fievel Goes West _ .” 

That did it for Soonyoung. He burst out a scream of high-pitched laughter that echoed around the concert hall. Joshua stopped playing and looked up in their direction. Mingyu grabbed the back of Seungcheol’s shirt and tugged them both down so they were behind the wall of the balcony. Wonwoo squatted down next to them, grinning. 

Soonyoung was already on the floor, shaking with silent laughter. Wonwoo clapped a hand over his mouth. Soonyoung pretended to struggle against Wonwoo’s grip for a few moments before going completely limp, closing his eyes and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth. 

Joshua must have decided there was nothing to worry about because he resumed playing; plucky, high notes filling the hall again. Seungcheol covered his eyes with his hands and sighed exasperatedly, but Mingyu could see the edge of a fond smile on his face.

Mingyu caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway and looked up. Lee Jihoon was standing there, hands in his pockets, expression irritatingly blank, just like yesterday. He looked just as rich and cold as he did yesterday, dressed in an ironed white dress shirt and navy blue pants. 

As soon as they saw him, Seungcheol and Wonwoo scrambled to their feet. Mingyu sighed and slowly stood up next to them. Soonyoung opened one eye and quickly closed it again, lying perfectly still. 

Jihoon strolled calmly down the steps. 

“What’s up with him?” he asked, nodding down at Soonyoung. 

“Oh,” Wonwoo said, glancing at his friend on the ground, kicking at him gently, “He’s dead.” 

“Ah,” Jihoon said, frowning slightly. Seungcheol coughed, blushing furiously. 

“Mr. Lee,” he said politely, “Can I help you with something?” 

“No,” Jihoon said, eyes snapping back up to Seungcheol’s face, “I was just checking the acoustics.” 

“A good idea,” Seungcheol said accommodatingly, nodding in agreement. He hesitated, looking around at the other boys like he was searching for something else to say. Mingyu just shrugged at him, “We can… Oh! We can have Mingyu play the piano if you want, so you can get a better handle on what it will sound like when you play.” 

“Uhh…” Mingyu said, dumbfounded, “We can?” 

“Yeah!” Seungcheol said cheerfully, clapping Mingyu on the back, “He’d be happy to do it.” 

“You can play?” Jihoon asked, looking at Mingyu with raised eyebrows and a new look in his eyes that Mingyu couldn’t quite read. 

“Yeah,” Mingyu said defensively, straightening his back, “Why, does that surprise you?” 

Seungcheol pinched Mingyu’s arm, hard. Jihoon’s ears turned pink, but his face remained impassive. 

“No,” Jihoon said quickly, “That would be… helpful, thank you.” Mingyu scowled and headed for the stairs. Seungcheol fitted his headset back over his ears to let the stage manager know that Mingyu was coming. Wonwoo grabbed Soonyoung by the wrists and dragged him up the balcony steps. 

Mingyu walked purposefully to the center of the stage and sat down at the 19th century grand piano. He couldn’t see Jihoon’s face, but he could see his outline, alone on the top balcony. Mingyu threw him a challenging look and turned towards the keys. 

_ Oh shit.  _ He looked at the sheet music in front of him. He’d been so intent on proving his competence to the stuck-up asshat that he’d forgotten one important fact. He didn’t read music. 

The only song he had memorized was a song he’d learned to play as a joke for Jungkook’s birthday last month. He sighed and placed his hands on the keys, squaring his shoulders and trying to look serious. 

And then he played  _ Uptown Funk _ . 

* * *

When Mingyu was leaving for the day, he walked by Jihoon in the hallway. He was looking at his phone, but as Mingyu passed, he glanced up. 

“Nice job,” he said. Mingyu frowned. He tried to determine if Jihoon was messing with him, but his face was as unreadable as always, “You play well.” 

Mingyu stopped walking, hand on his coat zipper. 

“Oh,” he said, “Thank you?” Jihoon just nodded once in response, his hair falling in front of his face. Mingyu zipped up his jacket and continued towards the exit, confused and annoyed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come find me on twitter!! @yoongis_dad 
> 
> chapter title from SUGAR by brockhampton
> 
> i have this all written so i'll update it weekly!!


	2. can i be close to you?

The next few weeks at the orchestra went by uneventfully. Jihoon was there almost every day, haunting the building like an overbearing ghost, lurking in corners and asking irritating questions. 

Mingyu and the other stagehands worked on getting everything ready for the impending concerts. They set up lights, took them down, set them up again. They installed wiring for speakers and adjusted the height of the overhead microphones. They fixed any broken furniture and double, then triple-checked that the piano lift was in working order. This particular feature of the orchestra building had apparently made Jihoon hesitant, and last week he had insisted that Mingyu explain  _ exactly  _ how it worked. Over and over again. For an hour. 

One morning, three days before the first concert, the stagehands came in and found boxes of coffee waiting for them in the breakroom. 

“Dang,” Soonyoung said, pouring himself a cup, “Did you do this, ‘Cheol?” 

Seungcheol shook his head and took a sip of his own hot coffee. He closed his eyes and hummed with satisfaction. 

Mingyu put his coat and bag into his locker and smiled at Soonyoung before going to find the stage manager to get his instructions for the day. His manager directed him to go across the street to the conservatory building to grab extra music stands. He headed back out into the cold November air, shivering as he jogged across the street. 

He let himself into the building with his employee keycard and made his way down to the practice rooms in the basement. As he got closer to the rooms, he heard muffled piano playing. It wasn’t unusual to have a musician from the orchestra here, or even a student from the conservatory, but they usually didn’t come in this early in the morning. He listened more intently and grinned. Even to Mingyu’s relatively untrained ear, he could tell that whoever was playing was seriously talented. Unable to fight his curiosity, he followed the sound to a larger practice room at the end of the hallway. 

He peered through the small window in the door and saw the small figure of Lee Jihoon seated at an upright piano. He was angled slightly away from the door, so he wouldn’t see Mingyu unless he turned his head. Mingyu could see his profile, and his hands on the keys. He looked different, somehow softer than usual, and it took a minute for Mingyu to figure out why. 

Jihoon was wearing joggers, an oversized navy blue sweatshirt and a beanie to keep his hair out of his eyes. Every other time Mingyu had seen him, he’d been wearing stiff, expensive clothing. Mingyu had been sure that every shirt the man owned was from Burberry. 

Mingyu was in the middle of wondering why he’d ever found the small guy intimidating when Jihoon turned and made eye contact with him. Mingyu froze. Ah. Now he remembered. Jihoon was terrifying, tailored pants or no. 

To Mingyu’s horror, Jihoon stood up and opened the door. 

“Come here,” he said, distractedly, not really looking at Mingyu. Mingyu followed Jihoon over to the piano and stood there awkwardly as Jihoon sat back down on the bench. 

“This  _ fucking _ peice,” Jihoon sighed, snatching the sheet music from the piano, and Mingyu didn’t think he’d ever heard him swear before, “It’s fast and I keep having to stop to turn the pages, it’s pissing me off. Can you stand there and turn them for me?” 

Mingyu just stared at him blankly. 

“Mingyu?” Jihoon said, finally looking up at him, brow furrowed. 

“You know my name?” Mingyu said, stupidly. Jihoon looked at him incredulously. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Never mind, I’ll figure it out,” Jihoon said, waving Mingyu away, “You can go.” 

“No!” Mingyu shouted, and Jihoon looked up in surprise, “Sorry. I’m just tired. I can do it. I think.” 

“Okay…” Jihoon said hesitantly. Mingyu peered over Jihoon’s shoulder at the sheet music. It looked complicated, notes in quick succession filling the page. Jihoon’s hands settled back on the keys. 

“Just. Um,” Mingyu started, and Jihoon stared at him impatiently, “How will I know when it’s time to turn the page?” Jihoon just blinked at him. 

“Are you joking?” he said, and he sounded genuinely surprised, “You don’t know how to read music?” 

Mingyu shook his head, cheeks flushing. 

“ _ Shit, _ ” Jihoon swore again, squeezing his eyes shut, and Mingyu almost laughed, “Sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole, I promise. I only ever spend time with other musicians, and I forgot that some people can’t read music. And you were so good at the piano, I thought -” 

“Wait,” Mingyu cut him off, “You  _ actually _ thought I was good?” 

Jihoon stared at him again. Mingyu grinned his best goofy grin, the vaguely cocky one that usually made pretty people give him their phone numbers. 

“You thought I was good! I played _Bruno_ _Mars_ and you thought I was _good_ ,” Mingyu said gleefully. Jihoon scowled. 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he said, his ears turning pink as he pushed up his sweatshirt sleeves to his elbows, “You have a good ear. Now come here. I’ll tell you when to turn the pages.” 

Mingyu sat down on the bench next to Jihoon, who leaned away from him. 

“What are you doing?” Jihoon asked, frowning. 

“It’ll be easier to reach the music this way,” Mingyu said simply, “Plus I’m tired. I’m not standing next to you like a fucking butler.” 

“You’re weird,” Jihoon said, and Mingyu laughed loudly, the sound filling the small room. He thought he saw the corner of Jihoon’s mouth twitch upwards, but he wasn’t sure, “I’ll nod when it’s time.” 

“Okay,” Mingyu agreed with a yawn. 

“Why are you so tired?” Jihoon asked, plainly, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Mingyu’s face. 

“Didn’t have coffee this morning,” Mingyu responded, “There was some in the break room, but it was hot. I like iced coffee.”

“Even in the winter?” Jihoon said, wrinkling his nose. Mingyu grinned, nodding. 

“ _ So _ weird,” Jihoon repeated, shaking his head.

They fell into a rhythm, Jihoon playing and Mingyu flipping the sheets over. Mingyu had never cared for classical music, not even after he’d gotten this job. But he also had never heard anyone play like this. Jihoon poured everything into his playing, his whole body curved forward over the keyboard, eyes glued to the notes on the page. He didn’t look down once at his hands. He didn’t have to, he knew exactly where they were and how to move them how he wanted. Mingyu suddenly remembered that he was sitting on a piano bench with a world-famous pianist. That Lee Jihoon was not just his own personal Phantom of the Opera, but an actual, real-life celebrity. And Mingyu could see why. Now he understood how Namjoon could be so enamored. Jihoon played music like other people breathed. 

Jihoon stopped playing, suddenly, and Mingyu looked up, startled. 

“Why’d you stop?” he asked. Jihoon looked confused. 

“You stopped turning the pages,” he said. 

“Oh,” Mingyu mumbled, “I got distracted. You’re… really good.” 

“You know,” Jihoon said, smirking at him, “I’ve been told that before.” Mingyu smiled back. 

“Oh really?” Mingyu teased, and Jihoon’s smile grew. He had two dimples that Mingyu had never noticed before, right on the corners of his mouth. Mingyu’s heart did a weird, flippy thing inside his chest. 

_ Uh-oh.  _

He stood up hastily, bumping his knee on the piano bench. 

“Um,” he said, “I gotta… I forgot. I’m supposed to… Bye!” He backed out of the room, letting the door slam behind him. He grabbed the music stands he came for and ran back up the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding. 

_ Annoying _ . Jihoon was  _ annoying _ . Of course he had dimples. Mingyu would bet that he had dimples on purpose just to frustrate him. Stupid, stupid, tiny man with his fancy clothes and his nice hands and his adorable frown. As Mingyu walked back across the street, he made up his mind to avoid Jihoon for the rest of the day.

The next morning when Mingyu got to work, there was an iced coffee with his name on it next to the boxes of coffee in the breakroom. 

* * *

The morning of the first concert was pure chaos. Mingyu got yelled at by the stage manager, Soonyoung accidentally locked himself inside the storage room, and Seungcheol had to spend forty minutes comforting a nervous percussionist. Mingyu walked in on Seungcheol and the kid in the green room, four hours before the show. 

“Just picture the audience in their underwear,” Seungcheol was saying with his arm around the kid’s shoulders. He looked up in horror, “Okay, bad advice. Um. I’ve heard you play, you’re good! They wouldn’t have put you on the stage with Jihoon if you weren’t good.” 

At the mention of Jihoon’s name, the kid groaned and hid his face in his hands. Seungcheol looked around desperately. Mingyu put his hands up as if to say “don’t look at me”, and grabbed a sandwich from the snack table. 

Jeonghan, one of their vocalists, sighed and stood up from where he’d been sitting in the corner and came over to sit down on the other side of the kid. Seungcheol smiled at him gratefully. Jeonghan just waved a hand at him. Jeonghan was ludicrously pretty, high cheekbones and shiny dark hair that he wore long. Right now it was chin length, and he ran a hand through it and tucked it behind his ears as he delicately crossed his long legs at the ankle.

Mingyu bit into his sandwich to hide his goofy grin. Seungcheol and Jeonghan had been dancing around each other since June. They were painfully obvious to everyone except, apparently, each other. Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan like he wanted to give him the world. Jeonghan looked at Seungcheol like he wanted to eat him. It was adorable. 

“What’s your name?” Jeonghan said in his kindest voice, the one he usually reserved for Chan and Seungcheol. 

“Vernon,” the kid mumbled. 

“Vernon Chwe! Right!” Jeonghan said cheerfully, “You’re the one from Berklee, yeah?” Vernon nodded, “This your first big concert?” Vernon nodded again, “Your parents here?” Another nod. “Grandparents?” Nod. “ _ Jeez _ . Cousins?” Nod. 

“They bought out a whole section,” Vernon said miserably, staring down at his hands. Jeonghan laughed gently. 

“My family did the same thing for my first show,” he said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan said, “It was terrible. I was so nervous I threw up three times.” 

“I tried to tell them not to come, but-”

“-they didn’t listen,” Jeonghan finished, nodding. 

“Yeah,” Vernon said, breathing out a heavy sigh. 

“Tell us what you’re scared of,” Jeonghan asked, voice quiet. 

“Um,” Vernon said, “Messing up, I guess. You’re all so talented. I don’t want to make you look bad. So many people are coming. I’m gonna be on stage with  _ Lee Jihoon _ , for fuck’s sake.” 

Jeonghan cleared his throat. 

“Oh! And  _ you _ , of course,” Vernon said, embarrassed. 

“He’s messing with you,” Seungcheol said, patting Vernon on the back. Jeonghan pouted, and Seungcheol shot him a warning look behind Vernon’s head. 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan said unconvincingly, “I was messing with you.” Vernon smiled at him timidly, and his posture relaxed, “Anyway, my point is, we all get nervous. Even the great  _ Lee Jihoon  _ gets nervous.” 

Mingyu choked on his sandwich. 

“ _ Doubt id _ ,” he said around a mouthful of bread. Jeonghan whipped around and glared at him with an intensity that could rival Jihoon’s. Mingyu mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, but he turned back to Vernon. 

“ _ He does, _ ” Jeonghan continued, “We all do. But we trust ourselves. We’ve all practiced these pieces so much that they’re muscle memory. So we go onstage and we trust that our bodies remember, even if we’re nervous. I know you know your piece. I heard you at rehearsal yesterday. So breathe. And trust your body.” 

Vernon nodded, taking a deep breath. Mingyu swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. 

“And if you mess up, I can have Soonyoung drop a stage light on you from the catwalk, killing you instantly,” Mingyu said helpfully, wiping his hands on his pants. Jeonghan glared at him again, but Vernon laughed. Mingyu beamed at him. 

“Thanks, guys,” Vernon said, looking around the room at all of them, “I think I’m gonna go up on the roof and scream at the sky for five minutes before I get ready.” 

“Sounds like a plan!” Seungcheol said encouragingly, slapping him on the back emphatically. Once Vernon was out the door, Jeonghan made to walk away, but Seungcheol grabbed his wrist. Jeonghan turned, looked down at his hand, then up at Seungcheol. 

“Thank you,” Seungcheol said gently. A sly grin spread over Jeonghan’s face, and he slid his hand down and threaded their fingers together. 

“Oh, you know,” Jeonghan said, eyes sparkling, “I’d do anything for you.” 

He squeezed Seungcheol’s hand once and left the green room without looking back. Seungcheol just stood there like he’d been slapped, wide-eyed and lips parted. Mingyu giggled. 

“You gonna ask him out?” Mingyu said, flopping down onto the couch that Jeonghan had just vacated. 

“Wh-what?” Seungcheol stammered, his eyes still on the door, “Who? Vernon?” 

“Agh, no, dummy,” Mingyu groaned, stretching his arms above his head, “Your soulmate. The guy I once heard you drunkenly call ‘An angel with no wings’.” 

“That’s stupid,” Seungcheol said, sitting down next to Mingyu. 

“I know,” Mingyu said, “I told you at the time. An angel with no wings is just a pers-” 

“Not that!” Seungcheol whined, “Me and Jeonghan. It’s never gonna happen. He doesn’t- He’s not interested.” 

“Uhhhh, okay, was that a  _ different _ Yoon Jeonghan I just saw holding your hand and telling you he’d, and I quote, ‘do  _ anything  _ for you?’” 

“That’s just Jeonghan,” Seungcheol said, “He’s like that with everyone.” 

“He super isn’t,” Mingyu argued, “He’s not like that with  _ me.  _ I’m pretty sure he wants me dead.” 

“Who doesn’t,” Seungcheol muttered. Mingyu smacked him. 

“Rude,” Mingyu warned, “Anyway, if it’s the last thing I do before Jeonghan beats me to death with Joshie’s theorbo, I will make you ask that boy out for drinks.” Seungcheol looked at him with big, shiny eyes. 

“What?” Mingyu said cautiously. 

“You read my packet!!” 

* * *

Two hours before the concert was set to start, Mingyu headed to retrieve the antique piano with Soonyoung and Wonwoo. When they got to the storage room, Jihoon was waiting by the door, half-dressed for the performance. He was wearing another neatly ironed white shirt, tucked into perfectly-fitting black tuxedo pants. 

“Aw Jihoon!” Soonyoung called down the hall, “Did you miss us?”

“No,” Jihoon responded curtly, frowning, “I’m just here to make sure you don’t break my piano.”

“It’s not  _ technically _ your piano,” Mingyu said, approaching Jihoon and crossing his arms. Jihoon looked up at him, eyes narrowed. 

“For the next three weeks, it is,” Jihoon shot back, “And I don’t want you fucking with it.” 

“Ouch!” Soonyoung gasped, “Don’t you trust us?” 

There was a prolonged silence that served as a clear and resounding  _ no. _ Jihoon did not trust them. He raised his eyebrows at Mingyu and gestured towards the door. Mingyu rolled his eyes and went to unlock it. As soon as the door was open, Soonyoung ducked under Mingyu’s outstretched arm and looked around the darkened room.

“Oh no!” he gasped, “It’s gone!” 

“What?!” Jihoon shouted, shoving Mingyu out of the way to look into the room. The piano was there, in its dust cover, perfectly safe. Soonyoung dissolved into giggles. 

Jihoon turned on him and shoved him, which only made him laugh harder. 

“Not! Funny!” Jihoon said, smacking Soonyoung repeatedly. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” Soonyoung gasped, bringing his hands up to shield his chest, “I just wanted to see the look on your face!” 

“You guys know other people like,  _ respect me _ , right?” Jihoon said bitterly, crossing his arms, “There was a whole article about me in TIME that called me ‘The Greatest Pianist of our Generation’?” Soonyoung looked down at Jihoon’s crotch with his eyes wide. Mingyu hit him on the back of the head. 

“Pian-ist,” Mingyu said clearly, “He said  _ pian-IST.”  _

“Ooohhh,” Soonyoung said, rubbing at his head, “That makes more sense.” 

“Oh my god,” Jihoon groaned, “I can’t believe this is my life now.” 

“Admit it. You like it,” Mingyu said, grinning. 

“Never,” Jihoon said, but Mingyu caught a glimpse of a small smile as he turned away towards the piano. 

The three of them got the piano lined up on the lift under the stage, with Jihoon hovering around them, watching their every movement. Once it was latched down, they backed up and Wonwoo moved towards the switchboard. Even though Mingyu knew he had explained the whole process to him in detail, Jihoon was still eyeing the whole thing apprehensively. 

“Wanna ride it?” Mingyu said with a grin, nodding towards the lift. 

“What?!” Jihoon said, horrified, “No!” 

“Yeah, c’mon, it’ll be fine!” Mingyu grabbed Jihoon’s wrist, but he resisted. 

“Won’t it- won’t it break?” Jihoon said. Mingyu laughed. 

“No way, it’s designed to lift over two-thousand pounds, and this piano barely breaks nine-hundred,” Mingyu explained, tugging on Jihoon’s wrist again, “So unless your tiny ass weighs eleven-hundred pounds, we’re good.” 

Jihoon gave in a little and peered up the elevator shaft. The lift came right up to center stage, so from the basement, they could see the bright stage lights and a sliver of the ornamental ceiling. 

“ _ Woah,”  _ Jihoon said quietly. 

“C’mon,” Mingyu said again, gently, “I’ll go with you.” Jihoon finally nodded, still looking up. As soon as they were inside, standing next to the piano, Wonwoo closed the doors and winked at them through the small window. Mingyu dropped Jihoon’s wrist, but as soon as the elevator started to move, Jihoon startled and grabbed onto Mingyu’s arm with both hands. 

Mingyu realized with a jolt that he’d never touched Jihoon before now. Not that that was weird, he didn’t usually go around rubbing his bare skin on new acquaintances. It was just that touching Jihoon felt kind of nice. Maybe he should do it more often. 

The ride took less than a minute, and Jihoon’s fingers were latched onto Mingyu’s arm the entire time. The lift jolted to a stop, and they were in the middle of the orchestra stage, surrounded by chairs and music stands. Jihoon finally let go and looked around in amazement. 

“I think you cut off my circulation,” Mingyu said, shaking his arm. Jihoon looked at him and blushed. 

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t realize I was doing that.” 

“It’s okay,” Mingyu shrugged, smiling, “I don’t mind. I’m big and strong and you’re very tiny, it makes sense that you’d want me to protect you.” Jihoon shoved him with both hands, and Mingyu staggered backwards, laughing. 

“You know, you’re very violent,” Mingyu said, rubbing at his chest. Jihoon scowled and stalked off stage right. Mingyu bounded after him, liking this moment for whatever it was, and not wanting to lose it. 

“You surprised me,” Mingyu said.

“Oh yeah?” Jihoon said disinterestedly over his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, “You were scared. I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.” 

“Guess you don’t know me that well, then,” Jihoon said without looking back. He ducked into his dressing room and closed the door behind him. 

_ Guess not, _ Mingyu thought. 

* * *

Mingyu didn’t see Jihoon again until curtain call. 

Everything was ready for the show; instruments were on stage, chairs and music stands were in place, and Soonyoung was up above them on the catwalks somewhere, ready to work his lighting magic. All the musicians were lined up by the stage door and the stage manager was doing a final head count. Everyone was stone-faced. Mingyu could tell they were all nervous, even the more seasoned musicians like Jeonghan and Seungkwan were a little wide-eyed. Vernon looked like he was going to pass out. Mingyu gave him a little wink and mimed a stage light falling and crushing him. Vernon gave him a weak smile. 

“Why does everyone look like they’re about to shit themselves?” Mingyu asked Seungcheol quietly. 

“The audience,” Seungcheol explained in a whisper, “Jihoon’s playing so all the big donors are here, which means celebrities and journalists. Someone said Yo-yo Ma might be here.” 

“Ah yes,” Mingyu nodded calmly, “The cellist.” Seungcheol crossed his arms and looked at Mingyu with strange disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head and closed it again. 

Jihoon was there, suddenly, taking his place at the front of the line. He looked like he usually did, dressed in expensive clothes with clean lines, but with something extra that Mingyu couldn’t identify until he looked at his face. 

Confidence. 

The scared kid who had clung to Mingyu in the elevator was gone. This Jihoon looked like he knew that he was the best musician in the room, like he knew he might be the best pianist to ever play on this stage. 

And it was contagious. The rest of the orchestra stood up straighter as Jihoon walked past them. Even Vernon stopped wringing his hands and finally took a deep breath, centering himself. 

Right before the stage door opened, Jihoon caught Mingyu’s eye and  _ winked.  _ He flashed him a smile that showed off his sharp canines, then strolled out onto the stage like he was born to be there. 

Wonwoo appeared at Mingyu’s elbow suddenly, stepping out of the shadows in the hallway. 

“Damn,” he said, peering out onto the stage, “His vibes are  _ sickening. _ ” Mingyu nodded wordlessly and Seungcheol frowned at the two of them. 

They were busy for the rest of the night, but Wonwoo caught up to Mingyu right before the finale. 

“You’re coming tonight, yeah?” 

“‘Course,” Mingyu said, grinning. After most big shows, all of the crew members and a handful of musicians got drinks at the bar down the street. 

“You should invite Jihoon,” Wonwoo said. That stopped Mingyu in his tracks. 

“Why?” 

“Uh, cause he’s one of us?” Wonwoo said. 

“Since when?” 

Wonwoo just shrugged. 

“But he’s like, all cold and famous?” Mingyu said, “Why would he want to hang out with us?” 

“He’s not cold,” Wonwoo said, “I think he’s just shy. Earlier today I saw him helping baby Chan tie his bow tie.” 

Mingyu considered it. Ever since that day in the practice rooms, Jihoon had been a little bit softer. He hadn’t snapped at anyone at all this week. He’d been irritating about the piano lift, but Soonyoung was irritating all the time and Mingyu still willingly spent time with him. Maybe they’d just gotten off on the wrong foot. 

“Okay,  _ fine _ ,” Mingyu sighed, “Why do  _ I _ have to invite him, though?” 

“‘Cause he likes you,” Wonwoo said straightforwardly. Mingyu laughed in disbelief. 

“No he doesn’t!” 

Wonwoo stared at him, the look in his eyes unreadable. 

“Fine! I’ll ask him!” Mingyu hissed, “And stop looking at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you know everything.” 

“But I  _ do _ know everything,” Wonwoo insisted, “I know that Seungkwan has a crush on the new percussionist. I know that Soonyoung makes up words for all the instrumental pieces and sings them to himself while he’s on the catwalk. I know that  _ you  _ are actually a pretty good musician, but for some reason, you don’t want anyone to know.  _ And _ I know that Jihoon has been buying you iced coffee every morning.” 

Mingyu could feel his cheeks burning. Wonwoo grinned at him triumphantly. 

* * *

After the concert, Mingyu looked around for Jihoon but couldn’t find him anywhere. He’d almost given up entirely until he ran into Jeonghan in the back hallway. 

“Hey!” Mingyu called, “Have you seen Jihoon?” 

“Oh hey, Mingyu, thank you, I also think I did a great job tonight, thank you for saying so.” 

“Hannie!” Mingyu whined, “You  _ know  _ I think you’re amazing, do I have to say it every time?” 

“ _ Yes _ .”

“Fine, you’re the best singer I’ve ever heard, you were so good tonight I got a boner and also I cried.” 

“Gross, Mingyu. But thank you,” Jeonghan said, wrinkling his nose, “And Jihoon’s in the lobby talking to donors.” 

“Thank you,” Mingyu said over his shoulder as he jogged down the hallway. He took the back employee staircase, hopping down half a flight at a time and sliding his hand along the wall. He was full of pent-up energy from the show, and he was looking forward to spending time with his friends. And getting absolutely wasted. 

And, honestly, he was kind of excited to spend time with Jihoon. Yeah, Jihoon was frustrating, uptight, and barely spoke to anyone, but Mingyu was sure that there was more to him. And not only because Wonwoo had explicitly pointed out all the nice things about him. 

Okay.  _ Maybe _ it was because Wonwoo had explicitly pointed out all the nice things about him. Sometimes Mingyu needed things spelled out for him. That wasn’t a bad thing. 

Whatever the reason, he couldn’t stop picturing what Jihoon would look like when he was drunk. He wondered if he’d come out of his shell and smile more, show off his dimples again. Mingyu smiled at the mental image of Jihoon, pink-cheeked and giggling. 

He grabbed the doorframe swung into the hallway, taking his phone out of his pocket and spinning it in his hand. He opened the employee entrance into the lobby. He saw Jihoon right away. He was standing on the steps, talking to a group of young, attractive people dressed in dark, expensive coats. Mingyu hung back by the door, waiting for Jihoon to finish. 

As he watched, one of the flute players, a girl named Claire, came down the steps to stand by Jihoon. She was tiny, too, barely up to Jihoon’s ears, even in heels. She slipped into the conversation effortlessly, placing one hand on Jihoon’s arm. Mingyu frowned. He hadn’t known they were friends. He’d never even seen them speak before tonight. Jihoon, for his part, didn’t look like he minded her presence. He smiled at her kindly, and continued the conversation, making sure to include her. 

_ They look nice together,  _ Mingyu thought, leaning back against the wall. The thought came with an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. Claire giggled at something Jihoon was saying, running a hand through her blonde hair. Jihoon smiled back at her. Mingyu started to flip his phone around in his hands again. 

He couldn’t hear most of the conversation the group on the stairs was having, but part of a question made its way over to him. 

“...you’ll be there tonight, of course?” One of the guys was asking, looking pointedly at Jihoon. It was more of a statement than a question, but Mingyu saw Jihoon nod. Claire laughed again, linking Jihoon’s arm with her own. Mingyu closed his fist around his phone, squeezing it tight. 

He hadn’t noticed before, but now, as he was looking around the room, he saw that everyone was sneaking glances at Jihoon. It dawned on Mingyu, suddenly, that he didn’t belong there. He pocketed his phone and slipped back out the way he had come. 

He’d forgotten, again, that Jihoon was famous, and now he was kicking himself for it. He just hoped Jihoon hadn’t seen him, standing there like an idiot. 

He grabbed his coat and met up with his friends in the back alley. He tossed an arm around Soonyoung’s shoulders and squished him against his side as they started to walk. 

“Tonight’s gonna be good!” he yelled up into the snowy sky, willing it to be true. Soonyoung laughed and leaned into him. Wonwoo tilted his head back and gave out a quiet “Woop!” 

“Hey!” he called back to Mingyu, “Where’s Jihoon?” 

“Too busy,” Mingyu said, not meeting Wonwoo’s eyes. Wonwoo hummed in response.

“Ah,” Jeonghan said, bringing his hands up to cover his ears, “It’s cold!” 

“Here,” Seungcheol said, stopping and taking his hat off and fitting it over Jeonghan’s head, covering his ears. Jeonghan smiled at him and shivered again. 

“My hands are cold, too,” he said, and Seungcheol, without hesitating, reached out and grabbed Jeonghan’s hands, cupping them together in his larger ones. 

“Better?” Seungcheol asked, earnestly. Jeonghan smiled slowly, nodding. Mingyu looked down at Soonyoung and rolled his eyes. Soonyoung covered his mouth to suppress a giggle. 

At the bar, Mingyu did shots with Joshua until he stopped thinking about Claire’s hand on Jihoon’s arm. It took longer than he’d care to admit, but after the sixth shot he felt pretty amazing. He danced with Soonyoung and Seungkwan and scream-sang along to a Selena Gomez song. 

After the eighth shot, though, he came back around to feeling not amazing. 

  
  


**The 97s:**

**Mingyu:** boys…….i sad 

**Minghao:** oh no

**Yugyeom:** here we go

**Jungkook** : what’s wrong??? Who are we fighting!!!! Tell me who to fight!!!

**Minghao** : kook you don’t always have to go right to violence 

**Jungkook** : I do if someone made Mingyu sad!!! 

**Yugyeom** : okay I’ll bite. Why…… sad? 

**Mingyu** : :( :( :( small

**Minghao** : wtf

**Jungkook** : who’s small? 

**Mingyu** : he :( :( :( 

**Minghao** : jesus 

**Mingyu** : no!!!! Not jessus! 

**Mingyu** : I just :((((( think we should kiss 

**Yugyeom** : all of us? 

**Mingyu** : no!!!!! You’re not invited!

**Mingyu** : Im probsabsly not invited eitherr

**Mingyu** : He thinsk im poor :((( 

**Minghao** : you are poor

**Mingyu** : :( 

**Jungkook** : aw babe. Where are you? 

**Mingyu** : train. He’s watching me :( 

**Jungkook** : WHAT 

**Minghao** : CHRIST.

  
  


Mingyu giggled at Minghao’s text and then looked back up across the train car at the poster of Jihoon and scowled. It was a full door ad for their winter concert series, and it featured Jihoon’s stupid smug face on a navy blue background with silver snowflakes. He took a picture of the ad and sent it to the group text so Jungkook wouldn’t worry, and then a brilliant idea occurred to him. 

He stood up and shakily walked across the train and pulled a permanent marker out of one of the many pockets of his cargo pants. He stuck his tongue out at Jihoon and contemplated for a minute before making a decision. He took a second picture of his handiwork and sent it with the caption “fixed it!!”. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im on twitter @yoongis_dad !! come yell at me 
> 
> chapter title from Bloom by the Paper Kites!!


	3. can i say something crazy? i love you

The next morning, Mingyu bought himself an iced coffee and drank it as he trudged miserably through the slushy snow on the way to work. He had always thought that snow was romantic, but there was nothing romantic about this. The skies were grey, but no fresh snow was falling. There was only wet, dirty slush left over from the night before. 

He kicked wet snow off of his work boots before he walked into the concert hall. When he got to the staff room, Soonyoung was already there, lounging on one of the couches. Mingyu dropped down next to him with a sigh. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Soonyoung asked, looking him over with raised eyebrows. 

“My head is killing me,” Mingyu grumbled, wiggling into the couch cushions and sipping at his coffee. 

“Want me to show you something that will make you feel better?” 

“Unh,” Mingyu grunted. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Look what I saw on the train this morning,” Soonyoung shoved his phone in front of Mingyu’s face, and it took his eyes a few seconds to focus on the screen. It was a photo of their orchestra’s advertisement, but with an enormous, bushy mustache drawn over Jihoon’s pensive face. Mingyu’s stomach dropped. 

“Oh my god.”

“I know, right!” Soonyoung said, pulling his phone back and cradling it in his hands like it contained something precious, “I love this so much I want to kiss it.” 

“No,  _ oh my god _ ,” Mingyu said, sliding down further into the couch, “I think I did that.” He pulled out his phone and swiped up through his texts until he got to the photos he sent to the “97s” group text. He groaned, then flipped his phone around to show Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung took his phone and peered at it, then looked up at him, then back at the phone. 

“Wh-why?” 

“I don’t remember!” Mingyu wailed, “I think I was annoyed at him?” 

“So you did...this?” Soonyoung said, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, “This is the dumbest act of vandalism I’ve ever seen, oh my  _ god _ , I’m SO telling everyone.” 

“Noooo,” Mingyu whined weakly. He honestly didn’t remember his reasoning for drawing on the picture of Jihoon. He barely remembered how he’d gotten home last night. 

“Uh,” Soonyoung said, and Mingyu looked up at him. His eyes were wide and his mouth was in a perfect “o” shape, “You should, um, re-read these texts you sent last night.” 

He handed the phone back to Mingyu, who sat up abruptly, looking down at the screen. His heart sank as he scrolled. 

“Aw fuck.” 

“You  _ like _ him,” Soonyoung said smugly. Mingyu just made a low, grumbly noise in the back of his throat, “You  _ like _ him and you want to  _ kiss  _ him.” 

“Noooo,” Mingyu whined again, which only seemed to fill Soonyoung with more confident glee. He bounced in his seat, jostling Mingyu. 

The door to the staffroom opened and Seungcheol stepped in. Soonyoung whipped his head around and screeched with joy. 

“CHEOLLIE! Mingyu has a crush o-” Mingyu slammed his hand down over Soonyoung’s mouth, his hand covering most of Soonyoung’s face and chin. Soonyoung made a muffled yelp and tried to squirm out of Mingyu’s grasp, but he held on, and smiled at Seungcheol casually. 

“Good morning.” 

“Uh,” Seungcheol said uneasily, setting down his bag and taking off his coat, “Hey?” Soonyoung kept struggling against Mingyu’s hand. As soon as Seungcheol turned away, Mingyu leaned down and whispered in Soonyoung’s ear, 

“ _ Don’t _ .” 

Soonyoung looked at him for a second and then rolled his eyes, nodding in agreement. Mingyu stared at him intensely for another moment, then removed his hand from his mouth. Soonyoung gaspsed loudly. 

“-on me. Mingyu has a crush on me, is all I was gonna say,” Soonyoung finished, shoving Mingyu’s hand away from him. Mingyu fell back on the couch, exasperated. Seungcheol turned around slowly, looking at the two of them. 

“I’m just gonna,” he said, “Go do my job.” 

“Good idea,” Mingyu said, closing his eyes. 

* * *

Later that day, Soonyoung came running up to Mingyu, pressing a folder of papers into his hands. 

“I’m supposed to take these over to Jihoon at his hotel, but I think you should do it,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“No,” Mingyu said firmly, trying to hand the folder back, “We’re not doing this.” 

“Doing what?” 

“That thing where you try to set us up, we’re not doing it,” Mingyu said, “So stop. Cause it’s never gonna happen.”

“Why not?” 

“Umm lets see. He’s a world famous pianist -  _ Stop giggling oh my god _ \- and I’m, well, this,” Mingyu said, gesturing at himself, “Also I’m pretty sure he hates me. And, and! He’s leaving for Paris in three weeks when these concerts are over. And most importantly,  _ I don’t like him _ .” 

“I’m pretty sure you do,” Soonyoung said, handing the folder back to Mingyu, “And sorry, but I’m not gonna be that friend who tells you that you’re worth loving even if you don’t remember who Mozart is. Go find Seungcheol if you need that. But I will tell you that he absolutely, 100% does not hate you.” 

“How do you know that?”  
“I just do. Now take these. He’s at the Hilton, room 718,” Soonyoung said with finality, patting the papers against Mingyu’s chest, “And then take your lunch break and go for a walk or something. You look sad. It’s bumming everyone out.” 

Mingyu took the folder and sighed. Soonyoung gave him an exaggerated thumbs up and then vanished off to wherever Soonyoung always vanished off to. Probably up in the maze of catwalks above the stage. 

Mingyu very rarely got nervous. He was comfortable in his skin, happy with the person he was. But Jihoon made him feel so out of place. He’d hated that about him, at first, but the more he’d gotten to know him, the more he’d liked him. The more he hadn’t minded feeling out of place, if it was Jihoon that was making him feel that way. And the moments Jihoon let him in? The moments where he smiled or laughed at something Mingyu had said, those moments were the best. 

So fine, Mingyu liked him. That didn’t matter, though did it? Not when Jihoon was untouchable, famous, Lee Jihoon, and Mingyu was just Mingyu. Not that he thought anything was wrong with being himself. He liked himself. He liked his life. But he wasn’t delusional. He knew his life and Jihoon’s life were too different. 

Mingyu was feeling awkward and sweaty when he knocked on Jihoon’s hotel room door. He waited a moment, and Jihoon opened the door, looking grouchy and confused. When he saw Mingyu, his face shifted from grouchy to something slightly more neutral. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Mingyu’s part. 

“Hey,” Mingyu said, trying to sound cheerful, “They sent me to bring you these.” He waved the papers helpfully in Jihoon’s face. Jihoon scrunched one eye closed and scratched at his eyebrow. It was adorable. 

“Um,” Jihoon said, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn’t spoken yet today, “Okay.” There was a slightly-too-long pause before he said, “Wanna come in?” 

“Sure,” Mingyu replied,walking in and closing the door behind him. He took his shoes off and left them by the door before following Jihoon. His gaze went immediately to Jihoon’s back. He was wearing a thin white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. The shirt had a wide neck, and Mingyu could see the knobs of Jihoon’s spine, the delicate lines of his shoulders. 

He’d never noticed how small Jihoon’s waist was, but now he could see the gentle lines of his body in the morning sun. Jihoon turned around and looked at Mingyu, and he stared at him, wide-eyed.

“What?” Jihoon asked. Mingyu panicked. 

“Shoulders,” Mingyu spat out, before he could stop himself. Jihoon frowned at him. Mingyu gestured at Jihoon with the papers in his hand, “I mean. You- they’re good. Your shoulders. I haven’t- um- you’re just usually in a suit? Sorry,” Jihoon was just staring at him, unreadable as always, “Please ignore me. I’m hungover. Sorry.” 

Jihoon actually smiled at that, blushing and looking down at the floor. 

“I’ll just leave these here,” Mingyu said, dropping the papers on the desk, “And go throw myself into the trash.” He started for the door, mentally berating himself for being unable to keep his mouth shut. 

“Wait,” Jihoon said, “Can you listen to something for me?” Mingyu was nodding before he’d even processed what Jihoon had asked him, grateful to have a reason to stay, even though anxiety was making his pulse spike. 

Jihoon waved him over to an electronic keyboard he had set up by the row of windows on the far wall. Through the windows, Mingyu could see the faded brown expanse of the common and the sparkle of the Charles river in the distance. The cold winter sky was clear blue, and the sunlight was bright enough to light the whole room. Mingyu skirted around the unmade bed and tried very, very hard not to think about what Jihoon’s dark hair would look like against the clean white sheets. 

Jihoon sat down at the keyboard and switched it on. Mingyu hovered behind him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other until Jihoon looked at him over his shoulder. 

“Sit down,” Jihoon said, pointing at the armchair by the window, “You’re too big and it’s freaking me out to have you standing behind me.” Mingyu laughed and sat down, folding his long legs underneath him. 

He did that, sometimes, when he was nervous, tried to make himself small. Sometimes his body felt disproportionately large, like he took up too much space, was too easy to see. People that met him when he was sitting down often gaped up at him when he stood. Minghao laughed at him for it, how he softened his shoulders and slumped his spine, sinking down in his chair to match the height of the person next to him. 

Jihoon started playing and talking at the same time, the gentle notes sliding around his words. 

“I’ve been working on this since I got here,” Jihoon explained, “And I think it's done. But I needed another pair of ears. It’ll sound better on a piano, obviously, but,” he shrugged, “Let me know what you think.” 

Once he stopped talking, he paused and took a breath, then closed his eyes and played. It was beautiful, of course it was beautiful, but it was also somehow sad, and right in the middle, Jihoon played a progression of notes that gave Mingyu goosebumps all over his body. He felt himself leaning forward, subconsciously trying to get closer to the music, trying to hear every note. Embarrassingly, he felt his chest tighten and before he could stop himself, he felt tears start to collect in the corners of his eyes. 

Jihoon finished his piece, the last notes echoing in the room, and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly in the sunlight and then turned to look at Mingyu. Mingyu wiped at his eyes quickly, but Jihoon caught him. He looked taken aback at Mingyu’s reaction, hands dropping off the keys to settle by his side. 

“This has nothing to do with you,” Mingyu said, defensively, “I’m just a crier.” 

“Uh-huh,” Jihoon said, smirking. He folded his legs up, bringing his knees to his chest on his chair. He looked at Mingyu expectantly, eyebrows raised. Mingyu tried to compose himself. 

“It was amazing,” Mingyu said. Jihoon’s expression didn’t change, “But you obviously knew that already. Why’d you need me?” Jihoon looked uncomfortable, like Mingyu had called attention to something he hadn’t wanted known. He rested his chin on his knee and looked out the window, squinting in the light. 

“I dunno,” he said, “I’ve played it over and over again for myself. I thought it needed an audience.” 

“And I happened to be here,” Mingyu said, watching Jihoon’s face. He didn’t look away from the window, but he smiled, a little. 

“And you happened to be here,” Jihoon agreed. That stung a bit. He wondered what would have happened if Soonyoung had delivered the folder like he was supposed to. 

Mingyu stood up and looked out the window. The commons spread out below them, an expanse of crunchy brown grass peeking through clumps of old wet snow. 

“I didn’t know you wrote your own music,” Mingyu said, his eyes following a row of bundled-up children, marching unsteadily behind their teacher as they made their way through the park, “Is there anything you can’t do?” Jihoon sighed. 

“Play  _ Uptown Funk _ ,” he said seriously. Mingyu whipped around. Jihoon was grinning at him widely, eyes curved and dimples showing. 

“Was that a joke?” Mingyu said, “Oh my god it  _ was _ , you told a joke!” 

“I can be funny sometimes,” Jihoon said, flicking his hair back out of his eyes. 

“Uh, nope. This is literally the first time I have ever heard you be funny on purpose.” 

“Guess you need to spend more time with me then,” Jihoon said teasingly. He seemed to realize what he’d said right after he’d said it and blushed. 

“Guess so,” Mingyu said, a thrill running down his spine. Jihoon coughed. 

“You should go back to work, I don’t want to get you in trouble,” he said, his cheeks still pink. Mingyu shook his head. 

“It’s my lunch hour,” he said, “Soonyoung actually told me to take extra time. He said I was bumming everyone out.” 

“Why’s that?” 

Mingyu’s eyes flicked to Jihoon’s, then away. 

“Had a bad night, I guess.” 

“Mm,” Jihoon said, his voice unusually soft, “Me too.” 

Mingyu’s curiosity got the best of him. He hadn’t been offered this much unsolicited Jihoon information and he wanted more. The moment felt fragile in his unwieldy hands but he gripped onto it anyway. 

“Did you go anywhere?” 

Jihoon shook his head. That was unexpected. He couldn’t tell if Jihoon was lying or if he really hadn’t gone to the rich kid’s party with Claire. If he’d really come back here alone. Mingyu looked around the room. Jihoon had been staying here for weeks now, but his stuff was barely unpacked. Mingyu could see some books on the bedside table and Jihoon’s toothbrush on the bathroom sink, but those were the only signs that someone was living here, rather than just staying the night. 

“Can we order room service?” Mingyu said suddenly, grinning hopefully at Jihoon. Jihoon looked surprised at the suggestion. 

“Sure,” he said after a second, “The symphony’s paying for it anyway,” he tossed the menu at Mingyu, “Order whatever you want.” 

Mingyu looked up gleefully, and Jihoon frowned. 

“Uhoh.” 

After some deliberation, Mingyu ordered two steaks and three orders of fries. Jihoon ate his salad and watched Mingyu eat everything with an expression of horror mixed with (Mingyu hoped) admiration. They ate at the table by the window, and after a few awkward minutes, talked for over an hour. 

Jihoon had been right, Mingyu did just need to spend more time with him. He  _ was _ funny. He made Mingyu laugh a lot, and when he did, he smiled proudly, which made Mingyu really want to kiss him. Mingyu was discovering, slowly and painfully, that most of the things that Jihoon did made Mingyu really want to kiss him. 

Here, in this bright hotel room, Mingyu couldn’t keep his eyes off of Jihoon. He felt the draw of his presence like a compass pointing true north. He couldn’t have turned away from him if he had wanted to. 

He returned to work with a much better mood than before, a full stomach, and Lee Jihoon’s phone number. The last was a privilege he fully planned on abusing. 

* * *

Over the next few days, Mingyu and Jihoon started spending more time together. Now when they got coffee in the morning, they went together. But Jihoon still bought Mingyu his iced coffee, ignoring Mingyu’s protests. Mingyu started texting Jihoon every ridiculous thought he had throughout the day. Jihoon responded to about half of these, usually with a picture of whatever he was doing. 

On Friday, Mingyu was at Jungkook’s apartment, drinking a beer and texting Jihoon. 

“What are you smiling about?” Minghao asked him, sitting down and pulling Mingyu’s legs into his lap. 

“Nothin’” Mingyu said, taking another drink and raising his eyebrows, trying not to look suspicious. 

“Uh-huh,” Minghao said, sipping at his own drink, “Is ‘nothing’ what we’re calling Lee Jihoon, now?” 

Mingyu grimaced at his best friend, who smiled triumphantly. He nodded towards Mingyu’s phone. 

“Invite him over,” he said with raised eyebrows. A challenge. One that Mingyu rarely backed down from, but Jihoon felt different. This thing with him felt like tissue paper, and Mingyu was terrified it would tear if he gripped it too tightly. 

“No!!” Mingyu squeaked, making Minghao dissolve into giggles in his lap. Mingyu shoved at him gently, careful not to spill his oversized glass of wine. 

“You seen his dick yet?” Yugyeom called obscenely from the floor, where he was lounging and playing video games with Jungkook. Mingyu shoved at his giant head with one of his feet, which only made Yugyeom cackle. 

“No, Yugs,” Minghao said with an exaggerated air of exhaustion and a twirl of his wine glass, “Mingyu has  _ feelings. _ ” 

“You’re both awful,” Mingyu said, squirming on the couch to get away from Minghao, who was wiggling his eyebrows at him and digging his fingers into his calves. Minghao was like that, always tugging Mingyu in, grabbing onto him and pulling him close, his fingers just shy of too-tight. Sometimes at home, he would catch Mingyu by the wrist as he walked by him and drag him close, his presence insistent.

They dropped the subject for the time being, but three or four drinks later, Mingyu relented. He checked to see if he’d gotten any new texts, and when he saw none, he tossed his phone onto the floor and sighed. 

“Fine!” he exclaimed, hanging his head over the side of the couch, “We have feelings.” 

“Who’s we?” Jungkook asked, looking up at Mingyu from the floor. 

“It’s the royal we,” Mingyu said exasperatedly. Why did he always have to explain everything to these people? “And not the point, Kook. The point is...the point is…” Mingyu may have lost the actual point. “The point is…oh!” Mingyu sat up, making the room spin wildly around him, “Waoh.  _ The point is _ that he’s  _ very  _ annoying, but also  _ very  _ hot in a way that I, personally, hate very much.”

Jungkook patted him on the leg. He was on the floor in front of the couch, and he rested his chin on the cushions, smiling up at Mingyu sweetly. Jungkook was the opposite of Minghao. Where Minghao’s presence was heavy and intentional, Jungkook’s was gentle. He made his attention known with reassuring sounds and kind smiles instead of grabbing hands and rough squeezes. Mingyu loved both boys, loved their ways of loving him, how different they were, how solid they both felt to him. 

“If it helps,” Jungkook said, seriously, “You’re also very hot  _ and  _ very annoying.” 

“I know!” Mingyu cried, throwing his arms up, “We’d be perfect together.”

“So… go for it?” Yugyeom said. 

“No!” Mingyu said, exasperated, “Did you forget the part where he’s  _ famous _ and, also,  _ leaving _ ?” 

“So?” Yugyeom asked, “At least hook up with him once before he goes.” 

Mingyu fell silent. He couldn’t do that. Even as drunk as he was, he knew he couldn’t do that. He’d known since the afternoon in the hotel room that once would never be enough with Jihoon. He knew that if he got to be with him, he’d never want to let him go. 

“Oh, no,” Minghao said, looking at Mingyu with a mixture of pity and understanding. Mingyu groaned pitifully and stretched out into his lap. Minghao ran his hands through Mingyu’s hair and tugged at it harshly, “Our poor puppy’s in love.” 

* * *

  
  


**The 97s:**

**Mingyu** : i have a day off on sunday & five tickets to the orchestra who’s in

**Jungkook** : namjoon just nutted. We’ll be there. 

**Mingyu** : gross. I’m taking his ticket back

**Jungkook** : aw now he’s crying! 

**Minghao** : don’t make namjoon cry, mingyu, what the hell

**Mingyu** : sorry!! He can have his ticket back

**Jungkook** : sweet he nutted again

**Mingyu** : I hate you all

**Jungkook** : see you on sunday!! 💖💕💗💘 

* * *

The seats that Mingyu got for free weren’t the greatest in the house, but he was still excited to be there. It was a new experience, watching the performance from the audience instead of hearing it from backstage while he ran around moving props and instruments. It also felt good to be out with his best friends, all of them dressed in their nicest clothes. They’d gotten ready at Minghao’s and Mingyu’s apartment because Minghao had insisted on styling all of them. Mingyu was wearing a soft white long-sleeved shirt, black dress pants, and a knee-length black peacoat. He’d borrowed one of Minghao’s expensive watches and he’d actually styled his hair for once. 

He felt like an adult, rolling up to the symphony with his boys. Namjoon was so excited, his knee bouncing in his seat, and it made Mingyu smile to see him that happy. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Jihoon. 

**Mingyu** : i brought my best friends so you have to actually play well tonight 

Jihoon responded with a picture of himself in the dressing room mirror. He was making the pouty face that Mingyu loved, the little scowl that wrinkled his forehead and brought out his dimples. It made Mingyu want to pick him up and kiss him.

**Mingyu** : you look good ;) 

**Jihoon** : i know 

**Jihoon** : now leave me alone 

Mingyu smirked down at his phone, then slid it into his pocket. He stretched his long legs out under the seat in front of him and reached an arm around Minghao, who was sitting next to him. Mingyu leaned on his shoulder and sighed. Minghao absentmindedly patted him on the knee, not looking up from the program he was reading. 

Now that they were actually in the concert hall and Jihoon wasn’t texting him anymore, he was bored. He bounced his knee and listened to Namjoon gush to Jungkook about how amazing the concert was going to be. 

“...historically informed performance, Kook,” Namjoon was saying, “they’re playing music the way the original composers intended. Isn’t that cool?” 

Jungkook was nodding enthusiastically. Mingyu had to cover his mouth to suppress a giggle. 

“Ooh, I just love Handel,” Namjoon whispered to himself, still poring over the program, “I’ve never heard the Hallelujah chorus done live before.” 

“Just wait til you see the theorbo,” Mingyu said, and Namjoon perked up. 

“A  _ theorbo _ ?!” he said eagerly, “Is it an original? Like, 18th century original?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Mingyu said, grinning. The old lady in the seat next to him scoffed, offended by his swearing. Mingyu turned to her and smiled. 

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, in his most charming voice. Her frown melted away when their eyes met, and her cheeks flushed. 

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” she said, smiling shyly back at him. Mingyu smiled wider. Next to him, Minghao sighed heavily. 

“ _ You’re gross _ ,” he muttered under his breath when Mingyu turned back to him. Mingyu just laughed and ruffled his hair. 

“...a type of lute, used in Baroque music,” Namjoon was explaining to Jungkook, who was still nodding, even though his eyes were starting to look a little glazed over. Mingyu was about to interrupt and rescue the poor kid, when the lights started to dim. Namjoon immediately sat up straight, eyes fixed on the stage. 

The conductor came out first, bowed, and raised a hand towards stage left. And then there was Jihoon, and Mingyu knew he was in trouble. He walked right to center stage like he owned it and bowed before taking a seat at the piano. The rest of the orchestra was filtering in around him, but Mingyu didn’t take his eyes off of Jihoon. He was striking under the stage lights, and just the sight of him was making Mingyu’s palms sweat.  _ Fuck.  _ Mingyu was so screwed. He liked him. He liked him so much and it was never going to happen. 

The whole concert, Mingyu watched Jihoon. He didn’t think he could look anywhere else if he tried, like a compass always pointing due north. Jihoon’s back stayed straight, but his hands floated across the keys so delicately Mingyu was surprised they made any noise at all. His hands were beautiful, his fingers long and elegant, but also strong. The more Mingyu watched them, the sweatier he got. He wanted those hands on him. 

“Is it just me or is the piano a deeply horny instrument?” Mingyu asked Minghao in a low whisper. 

“I think Vivaldi once said the same thing,” Minghao whispered back, which made Mingyu feel a little better, but not any less sweaty. 

He wanted, and he felt ludicrous for wanting because he knew he wasn’t the only one. Hell, even the old lady next to him was eyeing up Jihoon. He couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t blame anyone that was looking at Jihoon right now. He was ethereal when he performed. The passion he had for music was evident in every move of his body, and the stage lights sharpened his features, highlighting his cheekbones and angular jaw. 

By the time the concert was over, Mingyu had sweat through his creme-colored shirt and had imagined, then promptly rejected, fifteen different ways he might convince Jihoon to let Mingyu put his fingers in his mouth. 

He caught Jungkook’s eye during the final applause and nodded towards the exit. Jungkook grabbed Namjoon and Mingyu led everyone through the staff entrance to the backstage hallways. Namjoon looked around in awe, trying to take everything in. Minghao even looked impressed, and linked arms with Mingyu as they walked. 

They started to run into some of the musicians, and Mingyu was proud to note that Namjoon looked suitably starstruck. As they were talking to Seungkwan and Joshua, Soonyoung dropped down into the conversation from above them and made Yugyeom scream. 

“Hey!” Soonyoung said cheerily, “You must be Mingyu’s friends!” 

“Uh,” Minghao said uncertainly, “Where did you come from?” Soonyoung grinned wildly and Mingyu rolled his eyes. 

“The ceiling,” Soonyoung said seriously, “I live in the walls.”

Jungkook’s mouth opened into a shocked ‘O’, and Namjoon lifted his head up in shock, looking around like he was searching for a hole Soonyoung might have crawled out of. Minghao just looked at Mingyu with a look that said _ “who the fuck is this?”  _

“ _ Hosh _ ,” Mingyu said to Soonyoung, “Don’t be weird,” then to everyone else, “This is Soonyoung. He’s the lighting tech. He was on the catwalk. There’s a ladder over there. Don’t listen to anything he says, like, ever.” 

“Good advice,” came a rough voice from behind them. They all turned around to see Jihoon, still in his suit from the concert, a slight smirk on his face. Namjoon took one look at him and swooned, grabbing Jungkook’s arm for support. Yugyeom and Minghao snickered at him, and any other day, Mingyu would have joined in, but honestly, he could relate. Jihoon looked particularly swoon-worthy and Mingyu was a weak, sweaty man. 

“Hey,” Mingyu said, trying to keep his voice steady and cool even though his mouth was dry, “You were good.” 

“Just good?” Jihoon said, tilting his chin up. Mingyu laughed. 

“Y-you were … phenomenal,” Namjoon stuttered out. Jungkook rubbed his back proudly. 

“Thank you,” Jihoon said, bowing his head towards Namjoon. 

Mingyu did a round of introductions, and Namjoon started to relax, but he maintained his vice-tight grip on Jungkook’s arm. 

“Hey!” Jungkook said, “We’re going back to our place to have drinks, do you wanna come?” 

Mingyu was about to cut in and make an excuse for Jihoon, who he was sure was too busy, but Jihoon surprised him. 

“Sure,” he said, smiling shyly at Jungkook, “I’d love to.” Jungkook beamed at him. Namjoon made a strained choking noise, “Just let me get changed, I’ll meet you out front.” 

* * *

While they were waiting, Mingyu invited Soonyoung, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol to accompany them and they happily agreed. They took the train back to Jungkook and Namjoon’s place, and Mingyu thanked every god he could think of that it wasn’t the train that he had defaced. He kept catching Jihoon’s eye from across the train car and grinning. Something dangerous and jittery was growing in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was going to make it through tonight without either kissing Jihoon or just completely losing his mind. 

It was always a little scary to have different groups of friends in the same place, but to Mingyu’s delight, they all meshed together seamlessly. Even Jihoon seemed to be having a good time, laughing with Wonwoo as Soonyoung told a wild story that involved a lot of hand movement. Yugyeom and Jungkook were playing video games, and Seungcheol, Minghao, and Namjoon were talking quietly in the kitchen. 

Mingyu was sipping on a beer and watching Jungkook absolutely destroy Yugyeom in Overwatch for the fifth time that night when Jihoon came over and sat on the arm of his chair. He had a glass of wine in his hand, and he was smiling. 

Tipsy Jihoon looked just as cute as Mingyu had imagined, all pink cheeks and ruffled hair. He rested his feet on Mingyu’s thigh and without thinking, Mingyu wrapped a hand around Jihoon’s ankle. 

“Hi,” Jihoon said, eyes crinkling. Butterflies erupted in Mingyu’s chest. 

“Hey,” Mingyu replied, rubbing his thumb against Jihoon’s ankle, right above the top of his sock. 

_ I should tell him _ , Mingyu thought, looking up into Jihoon’s warm brown eyes,  _ He should know, he should know how beautiful I think he is. I have to tell him.  _

He got as far as opening his mouth, about to say,  _ “Can we talk?”, _ but Jihoon spoke first. 

“Thank you,” he said, gently, pressing his toes down into Mingyu’s leg. The pressure felt good, grounding, “For sharing your friends with me.” 

“Oh,” Mingyu said, taken aback, “Of- of course. They like you, so-” Jihoon laughed, a bright, bubbly sound that brought a smile to Mingyu’s face. 

“I know,” Jihoon said, finishing his glass of wine and setting it down on the side table, “It’s weird.” Mingyu must look confused, because Jihoon elaborates, “Sorry, I just don’t have a lot of friends. You could probably tell,” Mingyu made a noise to protest but Jihoon stopped him, “No, it’s fine. I know how I come across. It’s because I’ve been doing this,” he mimed playing a piano, “Since I was sixteen, and I don’t stay in one place for very long. This is the longest I’ve stayed anywhere in…three years?”

“That must have been hard,” Mingyu said. Jihoon nodded. 

“When I was younger, my parents would come to shows with me,” he said, leaning forward to put his chin in his hands, “But the last few times I’ve been alone,” he looked around the room, then back at Mingyu, “It’s nice to not be in that hotel room by myself for once.” 

Mingyu’s heart sank. He’d been so selfish. Jihoon had been by himself for so long, and finally, he got to stay in a place with people his own age, who’s company he actively enjoys, and Mingyu had been ready to risk all of that because what? Because he was horny? It seemed so trivial now. Jihoon deserved more than that. Jihoon deserved to have a place he felt like he belonged. Mingyu wasn’t about to ruin that for him. 

He put on his widest, most charming smile, and jostled Jihoon’s leg. 

“Aw, Jihoonie,” Mingyu teased, “You like us.” Jihoon rolled his eyes. 

“If you tell anybody,” he said, climbing down off of Mingyu’s chair, “I’ll deny it.” 

Mingyu really laughed at that, throwing his head back. Jihoon smiled back at him. He made up his mind then to be the best friend Jihoon could ask for. And nothing more. He needed a friend, and Mingyu didn’t like to brag, but he was good at being a friend. It was just a crush, after all, and it would probably go away soon. 

* * *

It did not go away. If anything, it got much, much worse. 

On Monday, one week before the final concert, Jihoon insisted that his legs were too tired from pressing the piano pedals, and he made Mingyu carry him on his back up three flights of stairs. Jihoon wrapped his arms around Mingyu’s neck, squeezed his thighs around Mingyu’s waist, and laughed in Mingyu’s ear. Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut and tried really hard not to think about how easily he had lifted Jihoon or about how the feel of Jihoon’s breath on his neck was giving him goosebumps. 

On Tuesday, Jihoon sent him a picture of a corgi playing the piano with the caption “its you”. Soonyoung had walked in on him smiling at his phone and bugged him until he told him why. 

“Oh,” Soonyoung said, looking at the texts, “I thought it was nudes. But this is way worse.”

“How is this worse than nudes?” Mingyu said, snatching his phone back.

“Cause  _ this _ means you’re whipped,” Soonyoung said simply, shrugging and walking away. 

“And I wouldn’t show you someone else’s nudes without their permission, Hoshi, you fucking freak!” he called after Soonyoung. 

Mingyu sighed and banged his head back against the wall because he knew Soonyoung was right. 

Mingyu tried, he really tried, to make his feelings go away, but Jihoon was everywhere and so beautiful and Mingyu was so enamored. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come see me on twitter!! [@yoongis_dad ](https://twitter.com/yoongis_dad)
> 
> chapter title from "May I Have This Dance" by Francis and the Lights


	4. gonna be my best part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a spotify playlist for this fic! you can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1ULNd9t13GSzRVJsQ6iAjx?si=lhk0nMDNRaCUAwD2fTwYUg)!

Mingyu poked his head through the slightly open door of the basement practice room. 

“Damn,” he said excitedly, and Jihoon jumped, turning around on the piano bench to face him, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. Is that the piece you were working on the other day?” 

Jihoon nodded, his eyes still wide with surprise. He was looking at Mingyu, but his gaze seemed far away, like his mind was elsewhere. Mingyu cracked his knuckles against his thumb. 

“S-sorry again,” he said, hearing his own lisp and cringing, “I can go, I just came to see if you wanted to walk home together.” 

Jihoon looked at him properly now, a slight smile spreading over his features. 

“You waited for me,” Jihoon said. Not a question, but a statement of fact. Now it was Mingyu’s turn to smile. 

“Well, yeah,” he said, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, “You were late today. I never got my iced coffee.” 

Jihoon snarled, but there was no malice behind it. 

“Brat,” he said, and Mingyu beamed. It was amazing, really, the way Jihoon could insult him and make him feel like he’d won the lottery. 

“I’m almost done,” Jihoon said, “Wait for me?” 

_ I’d literally do anything you asked,  _ Mingyu thought. 

“Sure. If you’ll play that for me again,” Mingyu said, gesturing at the piano with his chin. 

Jihoon bit his bottom lip, wiggling it between his teeth. He blinked, and he had that distant look again, like he was looking through Mingyu. After a moment, he nodded, so Mingyu stepped forward and shut the door behind him. 

“You don’t need sheet music?” Mingyu asked, noting the empty music rack. Jihoon looked at him like maybe he thought Mingyu was stupid, which Mingyu found embarrassingly arousing. 

“Nope,” Jihoon said, tapping his forehead. He turned back to the piano and Mingyu leaned against the back wall, feeling too close in this small room. He pulled his sleeves down over his hands, his eyes trained on Jihoon’s shoulders. 

They rose and fell once, and then Jihoon played for him. Mingyu couldn’t see his face, just his back, which was straight, his broad shoulders set firmly. Only his head and his hands followed the music. 

The song sounded bigger, more full, than it had that day in Jihoon’s hotel room. Mingyu could feel it vibrating against his back molars, filling him up completely. He wished, not for the first time since meeting Jihoon, that he knew more about classical music, so that he could put into words how this song made him feel. 

He watched Jihoon’s left ear; round and cute, and so much redder than the pale skin on the back of his neck. He wanted to touch him there, squeeze the velvety pink skin between his fingers and feel how warm it was. 

He pressed his fingers against the wall, anchoring himself so he wouldn’t do something tactless like walk across the room and bury his nose in Jihoon’s hair. 

Jihoon finished playing, the final, low notes echoing heavy inside Mingyu’s chest in a way they hadn’t when Jihoon had played them on an electric keyboard. Mingyu waited for him to turn around, but he didn’t. He ran his hands over the keys instead, touching them serenely without pressing down. 

Mingyu pressed harder against the wall until he could feel his pulse throbbing in his fingertips. 

“Wow,” he said, his voice a raspy whisper. Jihoon half turned, pulling one knee up onto the piano bench, “Thank you.” 

Jihoon looked at him and raised an eyebrow like the cocky little shit Mingyu knew he was. Mingyu laughed, relaxing back into his body. He let go of the wall. 

“Show me that last part again,” Mingyu asked, “Where you did that crazy thing with your hands.” 

He stepped forward, and Jihoon eyed him skeptically. He shook his head and smiled to himself, the tip of his tongue between his teeth. 

“Fine,” Jihoon said, “But you have to sit down, you’re-” 

“-too big, I know,” Mingyu said with a smile. He sat down on the piano bench next to Jihoon, who looked up at him, his eyes narrowed and his chin jutted forward. 

Then he turned back to the piano, breathed out softly, and played again. 

Now that he was next to him, Mingyu could see all the tiny micro expressions that crossed Jihoon’s pretty face as he played. And Mingyu knew, then, that he had been so stupid to think that his crush would ever just go away. 

He could feel himself staring, but he couldn’t stop, and Jihoon’s eyes were closed, anyway, and he was still playing, and it sounded so lovely, and Mingyu felt too large, too unwieldy and goofy and awkward to be at the center of a moment this delicate. 

And then the music stopped and Jihoon’s eyes opened and Mingyu was still staring. He felt the sharp heat of embarrassment from being caught, but he didn’t look away. Jihoon took his hands off the keys and settled them in his lap, fiddling with his sleeves, but he didn’t look away either. 

His eyes flicked down to Mingyu’s mouth, then back up to his eyes, and his cheeks flushed. Mingyu cocked his head, and realized two things at the same time; one, the great Lee Jihoon wanted to kiss him and two, he was too nervous to do anything about it. 

Mingyu grinned. He leaned forward, testing the waters, and Jihoon tilted his face up towards him, like a flower following the sun. Mingyu lifted his hand and rested it against Jihoon’s jaw. Jihoon just watched him, his eyes betraying nothing, but Mingyu could feel his pulse racing beneath his fingertips. 

Mingyu kissed him, and miraculously,  _ thankfully _ , Jihoon kissed him back. 

He tried to stay soft and gentle, but Jihoon wrapped his arms around Mingyu’s neck, bringing them closer together, and Mingyu couldn’t help himself. He let his other hand settle on Jihoon’s waist, and licked into Jihoon’s mouth. 

Jihoon kissed how he played, steady and passionate. He used his hands, his body, to bring Mingyu close to him, and Mingyu went willingly. 

After a moment, Mingyu pulled back, then ducked back in for one more kiss. He smiled, and Jihoon grinned lazily back at him. In Mingyu’s hands, Jihoon looked delicate, breakable, all the things Mingyu knew Jihoon wasn’t. 

“Hey,” Jihoon said, “I was gonna do that.” 

Mingyu laughed, loud in the small room. 

“No you weren’t.”

“Okay fine,” Jihoon allowed, frowning, “I wasn’t. But I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure  _ you _ did.” 

“Are you crazy?” Mingyu said, running his thumb over Jihoon’s soft pink mouth, “Have you seen you?” 

Jihoon scowled and bit Mingyu’s thumb, not gently. Mingyu yelped and pulled his hand back, which made Jihoon laugh. Mingyu ducked back in and kissed his open mouth. Jihoon kissed him back harder, hands sliding into Mingyu’s short hair, pulling him in like he couldn’t get close enough. They kissed until they were both breathless. 

Mingyu looked at Jihoon, really looked at him, and tried to catch his breath. Jihoon opened his eyes and saw Mingyu staring and smirked. 

“What?” Mingyu asked. 

“You’re cute,” Jihoon answered, arching his eyebrows and tapping his fingers against Mingyu’s lips. Mingyu frowned. 

“People don’t usually call me cute,” he said, and Jihoon laughed. He reached up and traced a finger over one of Mingyu’s eyebrows. 

“They should,” Jihoon said fondly, “You are.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Mingyu insisted, before picking Jihoon up and pulling him into his lap. He ran his hands up Jihoon’s back and hauled him back in for another, harder kiss. Jihoon made a little satisfied noise against his lips and scooted closer, wrapping his arms around the back of Mingyu’s neck and linking his ankles together behind Mingyu’s back. 

As Mingyu kissed him, Jihoon trailed his fingers down Mingyu’s arms before sliding them back up and under the sleeves of his t-shirt. He squeezed at Mingyu’s upper arms and let out an almost imperceptible whine. Mingyu giggled and pulled away. Jihoon whined louder this time. 

“Your arms,” Jihoon groaned, “Are so good.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu said, flexing his muscles, just a little, to show off. 

“Yes,  _ Jesus _ ,” Jihoon said, tugging the hem of Mingyu’s shirt out of his pants and slipping his hands underneath. Jihoon’s hands were colder than Mingyu’s warm skin, and Mingyu shivered under his touch. Jihoon pulled at the bottom of Mingyu’s shirt, “You should. Take this off.” 

“Not here,” Mingyu said, giggling against Jihoon’s grumpy pout, “The doors don’t lock.” 

“Fine,” Jihoon said, “Come back to the hotel with me.” Mingyu paused, his brain short-circuiting as he processed what that request could mean. Jihoon must have taken his momentary pause for hesitation, because he started to back-track. 

“I mean, if you want to. You don’t  _ have  _ to.” 

Mingyu laughed and buried his face in Jihoon’s neck. 

“I’ve literally never wanted anything more.”

* * *

“Can I use your toothbrush?” 

“What?” Jihoon said, lifting his head from Mingyu’s chest and wrinkling his nose, “No, gross.” 

“How is that gross?” Mingyu protested, “You just had my dick in your mouth but I can’t use your toothbrush?” 

“Wow,” Jihoon said, sitting up on the bed, “I don’t even know where to start unpacking how different those two things are. You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, but you like me,” Mingyu said, putting his hands behind his head and grinning up at Jihoon. 

“Maybe,” Jihoon said, “But you’re still not using my toothbrush. I can call down to the front desk and they’ll bring you one.” 

Mingyu grinned. Jihoon shoved him and rolled his eyes, reaching for the phone. When the front desk employee knocked on the door a few minutes later, Jihoon pulled on his underwear and grabbed Mingyu’s t-shirt from the floor, tugging it over his head with a tight little smirk. It was huge on him, falling halfway down his thigh and the sight made Mingyu breathe in sharply. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had driven him crazy like this. Everything Jihoon did was absurdly sexy to him, and the sight of him in Mingyu’s clothing had him practically drooling. 

When Jihoon crawled back into bed, Mingyu grabbed him roughly and pulled him into his lap. He kissed him desperately, sliding his own shirt up to get his hands on Jihoon’s skinny little body. Jihoon laughed into the kiss, but it melted into a moan when Mingyu rolled his hips up against him. 

When Mingyu pulled away, Jihoon opened his eyes slowly and blinked at him. 

“So do you, really?” 

“Do I really what?” Jihoon asked blearily, leaning forward to brace his hands on Mingyu’s chest. Mingyu shivered at the contact. 

“Like me?” Mingyu asked, trying to keep his tone casual and light. Jihoon scoffed. 

“I thought that was obvious,” he said, running his hand over Mingyu’s chest and up to his collarbone. His touch was gentle, and the attention was making Mingyu’s brain all mushy. 

“Nope,” Mingyu said, squirming a little as Jihoon’s thumb brushed over his nipple, “Not obvious. I’m dumb. Explain it to me. Tell me how much you like me.” 

Jihoon leaned forward, gripping the back of Mingyu’s neck. 

“You’re  _ not _ dumb,” he said, looking right into his eyes, “And I like you a lot. I’ve liked you since the first day.” 

“The first day?” Mingyu said, startled, “But I was so mean to you!” 

“I  _ know _ ,” Jihoon groaned, hiding his face in Mingyu’s chest, “I kind of…I think I liked it?” Mingyu laughed, big and loud, and hugged Jihoon close to him. Jihoon smacked him, “Don’t laugh at me!” 

Mingyu squeezed him again. 

“I’m not laughing at you!” Mingyu said, giggling, “I just really thought you hated me.” 

“Nooo,” Jihoon whined, “I really, _really_ didn’t hate you. I’m just… bad at this.”  
“Really?” Mingyu said, grinning wickedly, “Cause I thought you were pretty talented, actually.” Jihoon scowled at him, his tongue sticking out between his surprisingly sharp teeth. 

“Oh, I know I’m good at  _ that _ ,” Jihoon said confidently, “It’s the feelings stuff I suck at.” 

“Ooh,” Mingyu said, hope bubbling up in his chest. Feelings were good. Mingyu had a lot of those. It would hurt, when Jihoon left, but it might hurt less if Mingyu knew he wasn’t alone in how he felt, “So you like me for more than my body, then?” 

“Yeah,” Jihoon said, “Like  _ you _ , Mingyu.” Mingyu’s heart glowed. 

“I like the way you say my name,” he confessed, quietly. Jihoon smiled back at him. 

“Mingyu,” he said again. Mingyu touched the tips of his fingers to Jihoon’s lips, “Mingyu,” he said against Mingyu’s fingers. 

“I like you so much,” Mingyu said, his voice full of awe, “Like everything about you. I can’t believe I get to touch you.” 

Jihoon sat up in his lap and Mingyu ran his hands down either side of Jihoon’s body, making him shudder. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over Jihoon’s head and tossed it onto the floor. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Mingyu whispered. Jihoon chuckled. 

“What? Naked?” 

“Yeah, dude,” Mingyu said, eyes big and sincere, “You’re so gorgeous.”

Mingyu was pleased to find out that when Jihoon blushed, it spread down his neck and across his chest. 

Jihoon leaned forward and pressed their lips together, soft at first, then more insistently. Mingyu groaned, low in his throat, and grabbed onto Jihoon’s waist. He didn’t know if he’d ever get over how small Jihoon looked in his hands, how big and strong he felt when he held him. 

“Love that you said ‘dude’ and ‘gorgeous’ in the same sentence,” Jihoon said, smirking. Mingyu laughed, then grabbed onto Jihoon and flipped them over, so he was caging him in against the bed. Mingyu kissed him, deep and slow, until Jihoon was panting underneath him and his hand was twitching where it was tangled in Mingyu’s hair. 

* * *

After they’d brushed their teeth and turned off the lights, Jihoon snuggled close to Mingyu in the crisp white sheets. 

“Stay here,” he said, his eyebrows pulled close together, “This weekend, stay here with me, until-” 

_ Until I have to go. _ Jihoon paused, “Just stay with me.” 

“Yes,” Mingyu said, not even having to think about it, “Yes, yes, yes.” Jihoon smiled gently at him, and Mingyu nestled close, rubbing his face into Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon made a huffy irritated noise, but wrapped his arms around Mingyu anyway. 

The last thing Mingyu remembered before he fell asleep to the sensation of Jihoon playing with his hair was an overwhelming feeling of safety and warmth. 

* * *

The next morning was Sunday, and Mingyu had the day off, but Jihoon had rehearsal in the morning, so they woke up early and ordered room service. Mingyu got two orders of pancakes with bacon, and Jihoon ordered yogurt with fruit. 

Mingyu tried to impress Jihoon by showing him that he could fit a whole giant pancake in his mouth in one bite, but Jihoon mostly just looked disgusted. Jihoon left Mingyu with an extra room key and kissed him goodbye at the door. 

As soon as he was alone, Mingyu spun around and leaped back onto the bed, snuggling into the soft sheets. He allowed himself one self-indulgent moment and buried his face in Jihoon’s pillow. It smelled amazing, like the minty shampoo Jihoon used, mixed with something that was all Jihoon and definitely made Mingyu’s mouth water. 

He flopped over onto his back and smiled up at the ceiling. He knew what was coming, at the end of the weekend, but that was almost two full days away. Right now he was in a pretty boy’s bed, and he was allowed to be happy about that. 

He spent the rest of the day in a bathrobe, watching bad daytime TV in Jihoon’s bed. He only got dressed to go back to his apartment and grab some clothes and his own toothbrush. When he got back to the room, he sent Jihoon a picture of himself in the big fluffy bathrobe, tastefully arranged to show just the right amount of collarbone. 

He’d spent an unreasonable amount of time taking and retaking pictures of himself in the king-sized bed until he got the right one. He’d opened the blinds to get that natural sunlight look that made his skin glow against the stark white of the sheets. 

Jihoon responded almost immediately. 

**Jihoon** : I dropped my fucking phone 

**Jihoon:** why

**Jihoon:** why are you doing this to me 

**Mingyu** : Cause i miss you!! Come back!! 

**Jihoon** : One more hour. 

Mingyu smiled and tossed his phone onto the bed. He knew that Jihoon wasn’t his to keep, that this could only be temporary because Jihoon’s life was so much bigger than Boston, so much bigger than Mingyu. He knew that he had at most forty-eight hours until Jihoon left. But for whatever reason, Jihoon wanted to spend those hours with him, so Mingyu might as well make them memorable. 

Mingyu pounced on Jihoon as soon as he opened the door, grabbing his wrist and smiling, tugging him back to the bed. Jihoon rolled his eyes at him, but went willingly, letting Mingyu pin him down and kiss him all over his face. 

“Did you really drop your phone?” Mingyu said as he kissed along Jihoon’s jaw. 

“Yeah,” Jihoon said, pulling one arm free from Mingyu’s grasp and reaching for his pocket. He pulled out his phone, which had a small crack in the corner that hadn’t been there before, “Look. You’re a heathen.” 

“You knew that already, though,” Mingyu said. He kissed under Jihoon’s ear, then sucked his earlobe into his mouth and bit down on it gently. 

“I,  _ -ah- _ , had my suspicions,” Jihoon said, gasping and jerking slightly under Mingyu. Mingyu grinned down at him wolfishly. 

“You like that?” he asked. Jihoon pouted half-heartedly, his ears turning pink. Mingyu leaned back in and bit at them again. Jihoon whined with his mouth closed and slid one hand into the back of Mingyu’s hair, holding him in place. 

“ _ Shit, _ ” he said, panting, “I think I’d like anything you did to me. You could lick me all over my body like a dog and I’d probably be into it.” 

“Noted,” Mingyu said, licking the side of Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon tried to squirm away from him, giggling, but Mingyu held him in place and kissed him again, smiling against his lips. 

* * *

Afterward, Jihoon tugged Mingyu into the shower and let him wash his hair while he leaned his body back against Mingyu’s. They dried off and climbed back into bed without clothes on, and Mingyu reveled in the feeling of Jihoon’s skin against his own. 

“Hey,” Mingyu said, rolling over onto his side and resting his head on his fist, “Go on a date with me.” 

“Was that a question?” Jihoon asked with his eyes still closed. 

“Nope!” Mingyu said cheerily, tapping a finger against Jihoon’s forehead. 

“Alright then,” Jihoon said, “Where are we going?” When Mingyu didn’t respond right away, Jihoon opened his eyes and Mingyu just grinned playfully at him, wiggling his eyebrows. 

* * *

“C’mon,” Mingyu said, grabbing Jihoon’s hand and pulling him through the front door of the aquarium, “They feed the giant turtle at 5:30 and I don’t wanna miss it.” 

“How old are you again?” Jihoon said with a fond scowl on his face. Mingyu pulled Jihoon to the ticket counter.

“You don’t have to be a kid to enjoy watching a turtle the size of a dinner table go to town on a head of lettuce, Jihoon,” Mingyu said. Jihoon giggled, a sweet surprised sound that made Mingyu’s heart kick in his chest. 

After they saw the turtle, they walked around the big, cylindrical-shaped tank in the center of the building. Every few feet, there were windows where you could peer in and catch a glimpse of the fish inside. Jihoon paused in front of one, stepping close to the glass so that the blue light from the water illuminated his face. His eyes widened as a shark swam by, close enough to see the movement of its gills. 

Mingyu watched his face, feeling something constrict in his chest, tight up against his ribs. He took out his phone and stepped back, framing the shot so all he could see was Jihoon, lit up in blues and greens against the darkness. 

Jihoon looked at him curiously, and Mingyu shook his head. 

“Don’t look at me,” he said gently, “Keep looking at the tank.” 

Jihoon complied, smiling shyly as Mingyu took the picture. 

Mingyu took more and more pictures throughout the rest of the evening. Jihoon, with his sleeves rolled up, hesitantly touching a stingray with his nose wrinkled; Jihoon’s silhouette from behind, looking small against a giant, luminous tank of pink jellyfish, and Mingyu’s favorite: Jihoon absolutely losing his shit laughing at a weird little worm-like fish that he insisted looked  _ exactly _ like Soonyoung. 

Mingyu took Jihoon to his favorite food truck for dinner, and they walked back to the hotel while they ate. Mingyu squeezed Jihoon’s hand in his own and told stupid jokes just to see Jihoon laugh. For some reason that Mingyu had yet to figure out, Jihoon thought he was hilarious, and every time Jihoon laughed so hard that he threw his head back, Mingyu’s heart soared. 

They talked about everything Mingyu could think of, everything except for Jihoon’s impending departure. There had been one moment where something serious had crossed Jihoon’s face and he looked like he might want to mention it, but Mingyu had just kissed him instead. He didn’t want to hear what Jihoon was going to say. He didn’t want to hear that Jihoon was leaving and not coming back and they couldn’t be together. He knew it was true, but that didn’t mean he had to hear him say it. Not yet. 

That night, Mingyu tried to show Jihoon with his hands, his mouth, what he couldn’t say out loud. 

Jihoon fell asleep first, and Mingyu lay there for a long time afterward, transfixed by Jihoon’s tiny, dark eyelashes and trying desperately not to think about how much he wanted to get used to this. 

* * *

The next day was Sunday, the last concert, and Jihoon’s last day before he flew to Paris. Mingyu woke up first, with Jihoon’s face smushed against his shoulder and one fist wrapped tightly in the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt. Mingyu woke him up slowly, with a hand in his hair and kisses on his forehead. 

Jihoon was nervous and quiet during breakfast, so Mingyu gave him an enthusiastic blowjob in the shower to hype him up for the concert. Afterwards, his shoulders were noticeably less tense and he had a subtle smile on his face. Mingyu felt an odd sense of pride at being able to affect Jihoon that much. 

“Hey um,” Mingyu said nervously, “What time is your flight tomorrow?” 

“Noon,” Jihoon said. Mingyu winced. A long moment of silence stretched out between them, and Mingyu started to wish that he hadn’t asked at all. 

“Mingyu, I-” Jihoon started to say.

“Hey, guys!” Soonyoung called from behind them, jogging up between them on the sidewalk and throwing his arms over both of their shoulders, “Excited for tonight?” 

“The concert?” Mingyu asked, not looking at Jihoon. 

“No! We’ve done the same concert twice a week for a month,” Soonyoung said, rolling his eyes, “The  _ afterparty.  _ It’s gonna be horny as fuck. The stage manager is leaving the keys with Cheollie, we get to have it in the actual concert hall this year.” 

“How’d you swing that?” Mingyu asked.

“Seungcheol may have promised him that I would not be on the premises,” Soonyoung said with a smile. 

“I’m guessing you  _ will be  _ on the premises,” Jihoon said dryly. Mingyu grinned down at him. 

“You’d be correct, my little friend,” Soonyoung said gleefully, “But I’ll be in disguise.” 

“Wh-why would you need to be in disguise?” Jihoon asked, frowning, “Is he even going to be there?”

“No,” Soonyoung said, “But you can’t take any chances, Jihoonie.” With that, he cackled and dashed ahead into the building. Jihoon stared after him incredulously for a moment, then turned to Mingyu. 

“Why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a tornado every time he talks to me?” 

Mingyu barked out a loud laugh. 

“That’s just the Hoshi experience,” he said, holding the door open for Jihoon and following him inside, their earlier conversation forgotten for the moment. 

* * *

Mingyu crawled up onto the catwalk with Soonyoung to watch Jihoon’s final performance. When the music finally ended, Jihoon bowed his head, and the rest of the orchestra rose to give him a standing ovation, and the crowd followed suit. Something large and unnamable welled inside of Mingyu as he watched Jihoon stand there, blinking in the spotlight. He bowed and tried to wave off the applause, direct it elsewhere, but it only got louder. 

Through the noise, he heard Seungkwan cheer. Jihoon turned pink, trying to brush off the applause he so obviously deserved. Mingyu leaned against the metal bars of the catwalk as a slow, horrible realization swept over him. He could really fall in love with this boy. He looked so young just then, alone in front of a crowd, and Mingyu wanted so badly to hold him, to kiss him and tell him how well he’d done. And he had done well. Better than Mingyu had ever seen. 

He deserved all of this, and then some. As far as Mingyu was concerned, Jihoon deserved the whole world. Not for the first time, Mingyu felt blessed that he got to share a little bit of time with someone this special. 

Mingyu hung back after the performance, letting Jihoon have his moment, and he helped Seungcheol and Wonwoo clear the stage. He could celebrate with Jihoon later, at the party, and afterwards. Right now there were probably donors, reporters, and board members all vying for Jihoon’s attention. 

To his surprise, though, his phone buzzed less than five minutes later. 

**Jihoon:** where are you rn 

**Mingyu:** helping break down the stage 

**Jihoon:** can you leave? 

**Mingyu:** for you? Duh. 

**Jihoon:** c’mere then. Dressing room 

Mingyu made an excuse to Seungcheol that he was sure he didn’t believe, and practically ran through the halls to Jihoon’s dressing room. He knocked and Jihoon opened the door and tugged him inside, a sly smile on his face. 

“Hey,” Mingyu said, unable to keep the smile off of his own face, “I thought you’d be surrounded by your admirers by now.” 

Jihoon shook his head, biting on his lip.

“I told Jeonghan to make them go away,” he said, “Just wanted you.” 

That wild joy zipped through Mingyu’s muscles again, and he smiled with it, let himself be pulled in to Jihoon. Jihoon tugged him down towards his mouth and kissed him, biting at his bottom lip and twisting his hands into Mingyu’s shirt. Mingyu whined into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Jihoon, picking him up and putting him on the makeup table. He pressed in close, stepping between Jihoon’s legs and tilting his head back against the mirror. 

“You were amazing tonight,” Mingyu whispered into Jihoon’s ear as he undid the buttons on his dress shirt. 

“I know,” Jihoon said, his eyes shining.

“Mm,” Mingyu said, kissing him again, “Maybe I should give you head before all of your shows.”

Jihoon laughed, but pulled Mingyu in closer by his shoulders. 

“Maybe.” he said, his gaze playful, “I never got a chance to return the favor.” 

“You don’t have to,” Mingyu said, running a hand through Jihoon’s hair and cupping the back of his head, “You’re the star, don’t you deserve a reward?” 

“Who said this wouldn’t be a reward for me?” Jihoon said, his eyes glinting wickedly. Mingyu thought he might pass out, “Just keep your hands in my hair and keep telling me how amazing I am.” 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Mingyu said, eloquently, as Jihoon slid off the table and got on his knees. 

* * *

Jihoon changed into his regular clothes as Mingyu lay on the couch and watched him, feeling boneless and lucky and just a little sad. Jihoon buttoned up his black skinny jeans and pulled on a too-big grey sweater, messing up his hair in the process. He shook out the sleeves, then rolled them up so they rested at his wrists. He looked in the mirror then, and caught Mingyu staring. 

“What?” he said, mouth twisting into a half-smile. 

“Just thinking,” Mingyu said, eyes trailing down Jihoon’s body, “About how I’m supposed to survive the rest of the night now that I know you’ve got nothing on under that sweater.” 

Jihoon laughed, his big bright laugh that showed off his sharp canines and made Mingyu’s heart seize up. He crossed the room and crawled into Mingyu’s lap, grabbing Mingyu’s hands and pulling them up under his sweater and resting them on his waist. Mingyu threw his head back and groaned. 

“We’re so gonna be late for Soonyoung’s party,” he said as Jihoon started kissing his neck. 

* * *

By the time they came out of Jihoon’s dressing room, the audience had dispersed, and most of the orchestra and the crew were congregated on the stage and in the first few rows of seats. 

Mingyu walked across the stage to where Wonwoo was standing and put an arm around his shoulder. 

“Where’s the gremlin?” he asked, looking around for Soonyoung. This was supposed to be his “horny” party, after all. Wonwoo just pointed wordlessly upwards. Mingyu nodded. 

Suddenly, the lighting on the stage changed from a bright, blinding white to a muted pink, which then faded slowly to purple, then to blue, and finally back to pink again. 

Soonyoung appeared then, clattering down a ladder just offstage left and leaping to the ground. 

“What do you think?” he asked, turning in a circle with his palms facing up, basking in the shifting light. Mingyu grinned at him. 

“It’s pretty sick, man,” he said, and Wonwoo nodded. 

“Very bisexual,” Joshua added in his dry, sarcastic voice as he joined them. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in disguise?” Jihoon said, eyeing Soonyoung. 

“Oh shit!” he said, then reached into a pocket of his black cargo pants and pulled out a rumpled baseball hat, which he shook out and stuffed on his head backwards, smoothing his hair out in the process, “Ta-da!” 

“Your disguise...” Jihoon said slowly, “Is a hat?” 

“I never said it was a  _ good  _ disguise,” Soonyoung said with a wink. Jihoon looked around at Mingyu, who just shrugged, laughing. 

“Everyone!!!” Seungkwan called then, standing at the edge of the stage with a bottle of champagne, “Come here!!” 

They all gathered around him, some on the floor, others in the first row of seats, the rest in a semi-circle on the stage. Mingyu sat down in between Wonwoo and Seungcheol, and to his surprise, Jihoon sat in front of him, leaning back against his chest. 

“Thank you!” Seungkwan said, raising up his champagne, “I wanted to make a few toasts. First, to our oddly sexy tech crew, for working very hard for us even though we are divas.” 

He paused, and the musicians all cheered, and Mingyu smiled to himself. Jihoon nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, turning to give him a sweet, grateful smile that somehow felt more significant than the rest of the applause. 

“Second!” Seungkwan continued, “To our newest orchestra members, our  _ babies _ , Vernon and Channie, for completing their first concert series. I know we’re weird, but please stick around, we like you very much.” 

There was more applause, and Mingyu cupped his hands around his mouth and cheered. Chan looked elated at the attention, and Vernon just hid his face in his hands. Seungcheol put his arm around Vernon’s shoulders and scooped him into a sideways hug, jostling him and laughing. 

“Third,” Seungkwan called out when the applause had died down, turning towards Jihoon, who let out a quiet ‘noooo’ that only Mingyu could hear, “To our celebrity guest, thank you for helping us make beautiful music.” Everyone aww-ed, and Mingyu hooked his chin over Jihoon’s shoulder, bumping their heads together, “And also thank you for being mean to Soonyoung. Someone has to do it and we’re all too afraid. We’ll miss you, really. Come back to us, someday.” 

Mingyu felt hot tears start to well up in his eyes, and he shook his head to clear them. He joined in with the applause, wrapping his arms around Jihoon to clap loudly and rock him back and forth. Jihoon groaned and covered his face, but Mingyu could see that he was smiling. 

“Okay Josh,” Seungkwan said, “Take it away.” 

Joshua stood up and looked around at everyone as Seungkwan popped open the champagne and started to pour. 

“Hey guys,” Joshua said with an awkward wave that made Mingyu laugh, “So uh, a couple of us have been working on a gift for you all. Well, um, it was really Jihoon’s idea, his way to say thank you for being so welcoming. So, if you’ll just give us a few minutes to set up, that’d be great.” 

Jihoon wiggled out of Mingyu’s arms and stood up. Mingyu leaned back on his hands and looked at Jihoon with a bemused smile on his face. 

“ _ What _ ?” he mouthed. Jihoon just smiled and shrugged, winking as he walked offstage with Joshua. Jeonghan, Vernon and Chan joined them. 

While they were gone, everyone else gathered around the drinks table Soonyoung had set up in front of the stage, and Seungkwan passed out plastic cups of champagne. 

“Don’t worry,” Soonyoung whispered to Seungcheol and Mingyu, “I brought tequila, too.” 

“Oh god,” Seungcheol groaned, “Someone’s gonna die tonight and I’m gonna get fired.” 

“Relax, babe,” Soonyoung said, rubbing Seungcheol’s shoulders, “I won’t let that happen.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?” Seungcheol whined. 

Jihoon came back onstage then, followed by Wonwoo, who was pushing an upright piano on wheels to center stage. After him came Joshua with a violin, Vernon with a box drum, and Chan with his upright bass. Jeonghan came out last, carrying a standing mic. 

Mingyu looked around for Soonyoung to ask him what was going on, but he had vanished. Mingyu couldn’t figure out where he’d gone until a spotlight lit up Jeonghan, illuminating him against the pink-purple lights of the stage. 

Everyone in front of the stage cheered, and then fell silent just as quickly when Jihoon started playing. The notes sounded familiar to Mingyu, but he couldn’t place them, and Jihoon was adding his own flourishes to them. It wasn’t until Jeonghan started singing that everything clicked into place. 

“ _ This hit, that ice cold, Michelle Pfeiffer that white gold-”  _

“OH MY GOD,” Mingyu shouted in Wonwoo’s ear, grabbing onto his shoulder for support. They both burst out into delighted laughter. 

The crowd around them was losing it, too, cheering louder and laughing, singing along with the song. 

Jeonghan was hamming it up, twirling around with the mic and winking at the audience. Jihoon looked the same as he always did when he played, shoulders square and serious. It made it somehow funnier to Mingyu, who was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. He and Wonwoo were clinging to each other, singing along in between gasps of laughter. 

When they finished, the gathered audience erupted into cheers and wild applause. Jihoon stood and bowed, mock-seriously, with a big, goofy smile on his face. Mingyu cheered so loudly that his throat hurt. 

“Thank you!” Jeonghan said breathlessly into the mic, “I’d love to take credit for that performance, but it was all Jihoon and Joshie. Jihoon did the arranging, actually.” 

Mingyu made eye contact with Jihoon and mouthed, _ “Really?”  _

Jihoon nodded, cocking his head to the side with a slight challenge on his face, as if to say,  _ See, I can be funny too.  _ Mingyu laughed again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this deliriously happy. 

He wanted to kiss Jihoon, like, now, so he patted Wonwoo on the shoulder and slipped backstage to meet Jihoon right when he walked behind the curtains.

Mingyu was smiling and Jihoon was giggling as Mingyu leaned down and cupped Jihoon’s face in his hands and just  _ kissed  _ him. Kissed him like they’d known each other for years, kissed him like he wasn’t leaving tomorrow. 

Jihoon let himself be kissed for a few moments before he stepped back and pushed weakly at Mingyu’s chest. 

“There’s  _ people _ ,” Jihoon said, but he was still grinning. Mingyu laughed. 

“So?” he said, leaning back in and kissing the side of Jihoon’s head, giggling into his hair, “Nobody’s ever sung me a love song before.” 

“ _ Uptown Funk _ is hardly a love song,” Jihoon pointed out, “Plus Jeonghan sang it.” 

Mingyu just smiled wider, ruffling a hand through Jihoon’s hair, which made him scowl fondly. 

“But it  _ was _ for me, though,” Mingyu insisted. 

“Obviously,” Jihoon admitted with a roll of his eyes. Mingyu grinned triumphantly. 

There was a sudden clattering sound behind them, and they both jumped and turned to see Soonyoung leaping from a ladder to the floor. 

“Sup, nerds,” Soonyoung said as he brushed past them and headed out to where Seungkwan was pouring drinks. Mingyu looked at the ladder and up at the catwalk. He kissed Jihoon on the cheek,

“Wait here,” he said, walking backwards with a wild grin that made Jihoon frown at him curiously. He turned and ran over to the drinks table, grabbing a fresh bottle of champagne from Seungkwan’s hands. Seungkwan squawked at him but Mingyu just blew him a kiss and climbed back up on the stage. 

He grabbed Jihoon’s hand and pulled him towards the ladder Soonyoung had just come down from. 

“C’mon,” he said, nodding upwards.

“Is that safe?” Jihoon asked hesitantly, looking up. Mingyu smiled at him fondly. 

“Yeah, I promise,” he said, “You go first, I’ll be right behind you.” 

Jihoon still looked doubtful, but he nodded and headed up the ladder. Mingyu followed close behind, gripping the champagne bottle between his thumb and his palm and using the rest of his fingers to climb. 

Up on the catwalks it was darker, but they could see the stage and everyone gathered on it, as well as the complex arrangement of lights that Soonyoung worked with. 

“Woah,” Jihoon said, straightening up, “So this is Soonyoung’s kingdom.” 

The catwalks were dark metal, and hung from the ceiling with sturdy fixtures, but they still wobbled a little when walked on. Mingyu led a very nervous Jihoon by the hand to one of the wider places on the catwalk. They sat down with their backs against the railing and Mingyu popped the cork off the champagne bottle with one hand. 

He took a sip, feeling the bubbles against the roof of his mouth, and passed the bottle to Jihoon. Jihoon took it and drank, his mouth coming away shiny and wet. Mingyu watched and couldn’t help himself, leaning in and licking at Jihoon’s mouth, tilting his chin up into a kiss. 

He pulled away and smiled, cupping the back of Jihoon’s head. 

“Any chance I can beg you to stay?” he whispered, looking at Jihoon’s mouth instead of his eyes. Jihoon smiled sadly and sat back against the railing. He scooted closer to Mingyu, bumping their thighs together and resting against Mingyu’s shoulder. His head didn’t quite reach, but Mingyu slid down a little to accommodate the height difference, and rested his cheek on the top of Jihoon’s head. 

“It’s a massive opportunity,” Jihoon said, slipping his hand into Mingyu’s, playing with his fingers as he spoke, “I’ll be playing at legendary music halls, ones I read about when I was a kid. I’ll be playing with musicians I’ve looked up to my whole life.” 

“Oh,” Mingyu said, his tongue heavy in his mouth. He wished he had more to add, wished he had a counterpoint, a reason to stay. The metal railing dug into his shoulder blades uncomfortably. 

“Wanna know something fucked up, though?” Jihoon said, thickly, taking another swig of the champagne and not looking at Mingyu. 

“What?” Mingyu said, his voice coming out tiny and quiet. 

“This is my childhood dream, right? If I do this, it’ll be the highlight of my career, but,” he paused, drank more champagne, “But if you asked me to, I think I’d stay.” 

Mingyu almost choked. He bit down on his tongue, terrifying hope unfurling in his stomach as he waited for Jihoon to say something else, to say actually, no, just kidding, but he stayed quiet. Mingyu took a deep breath in through his nose and opened his mouth to say something rational, something emotionally responsible like;  _ “I wouldn’t ask you to stay”  _ or  _ “Your career is more important”, _ but what came out instead was, 

“I’m in love with you.” 

He froze. Jihoon froze too, squeezing Mingyu’s hand so hard it hurt.

“S-sorry,” Mingyu said, his lisp coming out worse like it always did when he was nervous, “Shit. I didn’t mean to say that, you don’t-”

“Did you mean it?” Jihoon interrupted quickly, turning to look him straight in the eye. Mingyu swallowed, biting down on his lips. He looked at Jihoon for a long, painful moment, then nodded, slowly. Jihoon’s mouth twitched. 

“Then don’t be sorry,” Jihoon said gently.

“There’s another option, you know,” Mingyu said quickly. Jihoon tilted his head questioningly, “Other than staying or leaving. We could try.” 

Jihoon looked down, shaking his head. 

“Mingyu. I can’t ask for that,” he said, “I don’t know for sure when I’ll be back. I can’t promise you anything.” 

“I don’t care,” Mingyu said, and as he said it, he realized it was true. He spoke faster now, straightening up and gripping Jihoon’s hand, “I don’t. I’m - I’m in love with you. I want you anyway I can get you. If that has to be through a phone or on a screen for a little while, that’s fine cause it’s better than the alternative which is not having you at all. And- and-” he swallowed around the lump in his throat, “I don’t want that. I  _ don’t _ .” 

Jihoon still looked uncertain. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up and letting it flop back onto his forehead. 

“Long-distance is supposed to be hard, though, right?” he said, too calmly, “It  _ hurts _ .” 

“I won’t let that happen,” Mingyu said eagerly, grabbing Jihoon’s hands tight and turning his body towards him. They were sitting face-to-face now, knees touching, and Mingyu leaned forward into Jihoon’s space, “I’ll be so annoying you’ll feel like I’m there with you, wherever you are. That’s um, if you say yes, which, obviously, you don’t have to, but if you do, Jihoon, I promise. I promise I won’t let you go.” 

Jihoon looked at him, his eyes wide and his face unreadable. He blinked and swallowed, pressing his lips together. 

“You mean it?” he said, with a voice so small Mingyu almost doesn’t hear it. He sounded so young and so afraid, and Mingyu  _ ached  _ with the need to protect him. 

Mingyu reached up and squished Jihoon’s cheeks in his big hands, grinning wildly. 

“Mean it so much,” he said. He kissed Jihoon on the forehead, then the nose. He waited, expecting Jihoon to wriggle away from his grip like he always did, but he just looked at Mingyu, eyes big and glassy. He looked more vulnerable than Mingyu had ever seen him. 

“What is it?” Mingyu asked, dropping his hands to Jihoon’s shoulders. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” Jihoon answered, his voice full of awe. Mingyu flushed. 

“Is that a good thing?” 

“Still trying to figure that out,” Jihoon said, finally smiling. Mingyu pouted. Jihoon reached out and pulled Mingyu’s hands into his lap again, playing with his fingers. 

“I can keep you?” he said, quietly. He looked up and Mingyu melted. 

“Yes,” he said, rushed and breathless, “God,  _ please _ , please keep me.” 

And Jihoon smiled so big and bright that it punched all the air out of Mingyu’s lungs. Oh, he was so in trouble. And so, so in love. 

That night, Jihoon handled him like something precious, used gentle hands to press him down into the big bed, kissed him everywhere, soft and slow. Mingyu relaxed into his touch, savoring every moment that Jihoon’s hands were on his skin.

“So pretty, baby,” Jihoon whispered as he twisted his fingers back and forth, rubbing his other hand comfortingly down Mingyu’s side. 

When Jihoon finally,  _ finally _ pressed inside him, Mingyu cried, feeling overwhelmed, and Jihoon wiped at his cheeks, kissed him carefully. 

“My baby,” he cooed, and Mingyu nodded, even though it hadn’t been a question. 

* * *

“Can I be the little spoon?” Mingyu asked later, after they had showered and brushed their teeth, side-by-side in the hotel bathroom, laughing at each other in the mirror. 

Jihoon chuckled,

“Sure,” he said. Mingyu rolled over happily, hunching his shoulders to try and make himself smaller so that Jihoon could wrap his arms around him. It wasn’t a perfect fit, Jihoon’s hips were level with his mid-back, but Jihoon pulled him close anyway, and Mingyu wiggled happily, feeling warm and safe. 

“I feel like a backpack,” Jihoon grumbled against Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu just giggled, pulling Jihoon’s arms tighter around him. 

“A very cute backpack,” Mingyu teased. Jihoon bit him, gently, sinking his teeth into Mingyu’s shoulder. 

“Can you say it again?” Jihoon asked after a minute, his lips against Mingyu’s skin, “What you said on the catwalk?” 

Mingyu turned around in Jihoon’s arms so he could see his face, which was closed off and anxious, his mouth pinched and eyes wide. Mingyu gave him a gentle smile. 

“I love you,” he said, calm and even. 

Jihoon hissed like he’d been slapped, sucking air in over his teeth. Mingyu pulled him in close, pressing their chests together until he felt Jihoon’s muscles relax. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title is from Best Part by Day6 
> 
> come say hi on twitter! [@yoongis_dad](https://twitter.com/yoongis_dad)


	5. anywhere with you feels right

**January 5th:**

**Group MMS:** **_Soonyoung, Jihoon, Mingyu, Seungcheol, Wonwoo_ **

**Soonyoung** : day 1 without Peanut and mingyu is pouting so much hannie asked him if someone died

**Jihoon** : :| 

**Mingyu** : 1st of all i am not pouting!!!! and 2nd of all “peanut” is playing the paris philharmonic in two hours show some godd*mn respect

**Soonyoung** : never

**Soonyoung** : I will

**Soonyoung** : never ever ever ever do that 

**Seungcheol** : Good luck Jihoon!! We’re all rooting for you!! 

**Wonwoo** : here’s a picture of a puppy to get you pumped for the show:

**Jihoon** : ...that’s just. A picture of Mingyu

**Wonwoo** : yeah? Did it work? 

**Jihoon** : …

**Jihoon** : yes 

**Mingyu** : :) :) :) :) 

* * *

**January 10th:**

**Seungkwan** : Jihoon!! We miss you! How’s paris? 

**Jihoon** : its okay, i have one more show and then i go to amsterdam 

**Seungkwan** : I’m so jealous!

**Jihoon** : tbh i’d rather be back with you guys 

**Seungkwan** : but!! Paris!! 

**Jihoon** : not to sound pretentious but i’ve been here before and i… don’t like it

**Seungkwan** : at least go take one (1) selfie for me as a treat 

**Seungkwan** : I wanna see your grumpy face and the Eiffel Tower in the same frame pls spl

**Jihoon** : <photo>

**Jihoon:** Happy?

**Seungkwan** : !!!!!!!!! you did it!!! Does this mean we’re friends??!?!

**Jihoon** : ugh

**Seungkwan** : don’t ugh at me I know you’re secretly soft, lee jihoon 

**Seungkwan** : how are things with mingyu? 

**Jihoon** : you know that twitter acct that’s like “texts from your dog”? 

**Seungkwan** : yeah? 

**Jihoon** : that’s mingyu 

**Seungkwan** : LMAO

**Jihoon** : yesterday he texted me a picture of a neat cloud he saw 

**Jihoon** : he’s amazing 

* * *

**January 11th:**

**Jihoon** : <photo>

**Jihoon** : I think you’d like amsterdam 

**Mingyu** : well it’s where you are, isn’t it? 

**Jihoon** : ah. gross. 

**Mingyu** : you smiled, admit it 

**Jihoon** : I’d sooner die

**Jihoon** : Tell me something 

**Mingyu** : what? 

**Jihoon** : anything. Just tell me what you’re doing right now 

**Mingyu** : i’m at work, cleaning out the old storage rooms in the basement 

**Mingyu** : I checked for ghosts first though don’t worry 

**Jihoon** : oh good?

**Mingyu** : have you ever seen a ghost? 

**Jihoon** : No, Mingyu. I have never seen a ghost. 

**Mingyu** : i’ve definitely seen a ghost 

**Mingyu** : my elementary school was in a really old building and there was this story about a scary old janitor that fell down the stairs and died and i swear to GOD i saw a man in an old timey janitor outfit walk down the hall past me one night when we were there for parent teacher conferences 

**Jihoon** : I’m having another one of those moments where I look around and wonder how I ended up here

**Jihoon** : like here i am, in amsterdam, about to play with the Concertgebouw Orchestra, texting my enormous boyfriend who i am just now finding out believes in fucking ghosts 

**Mingyu** : The truth is out there, Jihoon 

**Mingyu** : I like it when you call me that

**Jihoon** : what? Enormous? 

**Mingyu** : your boyfriend :) 

**Mingyu** : but you can call me enormous whenever you want ;) 

**Jihoon** : you’re disgusting 

**Jihoon** : ugh. i miss you 

**Mingyu** : I miss you too, baby 

**Mingyu** : call me after your concert? 

**Jihoon** : course 

**Mingyu** : fuckin kill em out there, babe

**Mingyu** : play that mozart *clenches fist* so good 

* * *

**January 25th:**

**Group MMS:** **_The 97s:_ **

**Mingyu** : Mozart! Bach! Vivaldi! Handyl! Chopin! Debussy! Wagner! Liszt! 

**Jungkook** : look at this character development! 

**Yugyeom** : Peanut must be so proud

**Mingyu** : every day I regret introducing you to Soonyoung 

**Jungkook** : don’t- we love our new goblin son

**Minghao** : i dare you to name one Chopin piece you like 

**Jungkook** : hao leave the pup alone 

**Mingyu** : I like his nocturnes but specifically No. 19 in E Minor 

**Jungkook** : 😮

**Minghao** :😮

**Yugyeom** : 😮

**Mingyu** : 😎

**Minghao** : don’t get cocky i heard you singing Bubble Pop in the shower yesterday 

**Mingyu** : hey!! I am large!! I contain multitudes!! 

**Yugyeom** : u certainly are large

**Jungkook** : i can’t wait for the day when Hyuna’s name is listed among the greats alongside Mozart’s

**Mingyu** : thank u kookie :* 

**Jungkook** : Namjoon just read my last text over my shoulder and now he’s threatening to break up with me 

**Yugyeom** : damn 

**Minghao** : press f to pay respects 

**Mingyu** : f :( 

* * *

**February 2nd:**

**Minghao** : hey i uh 

**Minghao** : have a date tonight 

**Mingyu** : THAT’s AMAZING!! With who??? Did you want my help getting ready??? Did you need advice?? 

**Minghao** : no i just wanted to tell you so you’d know i was coming home late tonight 

**Mingyu** : okay but do you want to try on a bunch of outfits for me & i can tell you which one i like best 

**Minghao** : no

**Mingyu** : …… 

**Minghao** : okay wait yes i do

**Mingyu** : i’ll be home in twenty 

* * *

**February 10th:**

**Jihoon** : so uh soonyoung just sent me this: 

<photo>

Mingyu opened the attachment to see a photo of the poster he’d defaced all those weeks ago, silly mustache and all. 

**Mingyu** : OH MY GOD NO 

**Mingyu** : Baby no you weren’t supposed to see that I was SO DRUNK and I thought you hated me and were kissing that pretty flute player!! 

**Jihoon** : Seungkwan??

**Mingyu** : No!! Claire!!! 

**Jihoon** : I uh in all honesty...have no idea who that is 

**Mingyu** : that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me 

**Mingyu** : I am sorry tho

**Mingyu** : that’s ahhh very embarrassing 

**Jihoon** : haha I kinda love it 

**Jihoon** : it may or may not be my phone background 

**Jihoon** : like the inside one though, I’m not about to make a picture of myself my lockscreen 

**Mingyu** : welp. I’m glad you like my artwork at least 

**Mingyu** : what IS your lock screen then 

Less than ten seconds later, Jihoon sent him a screenshot of his lockscreen, which, to Mingyu’s delight, was a picture of himself. It was from that last weekend at the hotel, a picture of Mingyu in his pajamas, laughing with his mouth wide, sitting up in a nest of messy white sheets.

**Mingyu** : !!!!

**Mingyu** : you like me, don’t you squidward

**Jihoon** : hey Siri, google “how to convincingly fake your own death” 

**Mingyu** : nice try fucker!! I know you like me!! 

**Jihoon** : oh look at the time! I gotta go to sleep 

**Mingyu** : it’s like noon in Brussels???? 

**Jihoon** : zzzzzzzzz

* * *

**February 20th:**

**Soonyoung** : GOOD MORNING NIBLET

**Jihoon** : wtf how did you get my number 

**Soonyoung** : you. Literally gave it to me? 

**Soonyoung** : jihoon you texted me yesterday 

**Jihoon** : that doesn’t sound like me 

**Soonyoung** : can you just...ugh

**Soonyoung** : my mom emailed me a video of your Oslo show

**Soonyoung** : old ladies love you, did you know that?

**Jihoon** : I did, actually 

**Jihoon** : what do you want, soonyoung

**Soonyoung** : i’m trying to compliment you give me a second

**Jihoon** : please, take all the time you need

**Soonyoung** : than kyou

**Soonyoung** : that chopin piece - it was part of our spring concert series last year so i’ve heard it played A LOT and DUDE not to sound like Mingyu but you did make me cry real human tears 

**Jihoon** : oh

**Jihoon** : thanks, Soonyoung

**Jihoon** : that was actually really nice 

**Soonyoung** : Why does everyone always sound surprised when I do nice things????? It’s not that weird!!! I’m a nice person!!! 

**Jihoon** : course you are 

**Soonyoung** : THANK YOU

**Soonyoung** : also i wrote some sick lyrics for that piece i can sing them for you any time 

* * *

**March 8th:**

**Group text:** _ Wonwoo, Soonyoung, Mingyu, Jihoon, Seungkwan, Jungkook, Joshua, Yugyeom, Minghao _

**Group Name: SEUNGCHEOL EMERGENCY!!** __

**Seungkwan** : hello my friends!! 

**Seungkwan** : or, more importantly, hello Seungcheol’s friends 

**Seungkwan** : we have an emergency 

**Soonyoung** : damn rip he’ll be missed :( 

**Seungkwan** : he’s not dead, dumbass, he has a date 

**Soonyoung** : damn rip 

**Seungkwan** : WITH JEONGHAN 

**Joshua** : WHAT

**Soonyoung** : 0.0 

**Wonwoo** : HOW 

**Mingyu** : THANK GOD 

**Jungkook** : i just burst into tears at trader joe’s 

**Yugyeom** : you did that last week too

**Jungkook** : !!! let me feel my feelings!!!

**Jihoon** : why is this an emergency? 

**Seungkwan** : oh jihoon my sweet summer child 

**Seungkwan** : we’ve been waiting for this day FOR DECADES 

**Wonwoo** : *since june

**Seungkwan** : we’ve been waiting for this day SINCE JUNE

**Mingyu** : who asked who!!? 

**Seungkwan** : want the details? 

**Jungkook** : please yes i’ve never wanted anything more 

**Minghao** : he’s still crying btw 

**Mingyu** : minghao you’re there too?? you guys went to tjs without me???

**Seungkwan** : Mingyu!! Focus!! 

**Seungkwan** : SO we were doing tech rehearsals and cheollie was there doing??? something?? honestly idk what you guys do 

**Wonwoo** : uhh literally everything that makes the show happen 

**Seungkwan** : right, that

**Seungkwan** : and hannie was distracted, i guess, because he kept making mistakes which is NOT like him 

**Seungkwan** : he got rlly frustrated with himself and started to tear up so we took a break and cheol like.. RAN backstage to find him 

**Seungkwan** : they were back there for a while and i got worried!!

**Joshua** : you mean you’re a nosy little bitch and you wanted to hear what they were saying

**Seungkwan** : no interrupting!!! 

**Seungkwan** : so i go backstage to find them and they’re in the back hallway by the dressing rooms. Hannie was crying and Seungcheol had him in his Big Strong arms...you guys….it was...the Softest Shit™ 

**Seungkwan** : i do have some common decency so i went to the green room to give them some space, and a few minutes later Hannie comes in like smiling big big big so i asked him if he felt better and !!!!

**Seungkwan** : He said ‘i have a date!’ and my whole dumbass was like ‘with who?’ b/c i could NOT conceive of a world in which our bb Cheollie actually did the damn thing but you GUYS!! He DID!!! 

**Minghao** : jk just turned into a puddle of mush in the frozen foods aisle 

**Mingyu** : same tbh :’) 

**Mingyu** : except not in the frozen foods aisle because I DIDN'T GET INVITED TO TRADER JOE’S

**Wonwoo** : are they okay with you telling us this? 

**Seungkwan** : yes ofc Jeonghan is literally sitting in my lap rn 

**Seungkwan** : who do you think made me say that Seungcheol had “Big Strong Arms” 

**Joshua** : i hate the gays

**Seungkwan** : Hannie says you’re just a jealous old man 

**Joshua** : tell :) hannie :) to :) eat :) my :) ass :) 

**Seungkwan** : he says he’s only eating one ass from now on 

**Wonwoo** : p l e a s e n o 

**Minghao** : blocked 

**Jihoon** : every day you guys make me question what sins i committed in my past life 

**Soonyoung** : this conversation is great! I’m so glad I never learned to read and also I can’t see! 

**Mingyu** : I think it’s romantic!! 

**Jihoon** : god

**Seungkwan** : romantic ass-eating aside, we have to help Cheol get ready 

**Seungkwan** : he’s our best boy but i haven’t seen him in anything other than cargo pants in MONTHS

**Minghao** : tbh I’ve been waiting for this day since we met - bring him over to mine and Mingyu’s 

**Mingyu** : it’s true, he has a whole Pinterest board for Seungcheol

**Seungkwan** : wholesome!!!

**Soonyoung** : weird!! 

**Wonwoo** : what’s on it? 

**Minghao** : just stuff I think he’d look good in idk

**Minghao** : it’s not a big deal, guys

**Mingyu** : he has boards for all of you 

**Joshua** : I simultaneously feel so taken care of and so judged 

**Minghao** : MINGYU I STG 

**Mingyu** : 

**Minghao** : mingyu come out of your room we went to Trader Joe’s we didn’t get matching tattoos 

**Mingyu** : 😠

**Minghao** : I bought you corn dogs 

**Mingyu** : 🥰 coming!! 

* * *

**March 15th:**

Mingyu sat on his bed and bobbed his head along with the  _ ding-ding-ding _ of the Skype call, and then smiled when the  _ bleep _ came that meant it had connected. The screen was black for a moment, and then he could see the early-morning view from Jihoon’s hotel room of the week. Prague, he thought. Or maybe that was last week? Helsinki? 

“Lemme see your face, weirdo,” Mingyu said, and he heard Jihoon sigh. The view flipped, and he could see Jihoon, in a big black sweatshirt, chin resting in his hand. 

“I wanted to show you the view,” he said, scowling. 

“I’d rather see this view,” Mingyu said, grinning and settling back onto his pillows. Jihoon frowned at him. 

“Gross,” he said, “I’ll hang up on you.” 

“No you won’t,” Mingyu teased. Jihoon sighed again, then set his phone down on the hotel desk, leaning it back against the window. He pulled up his hood, ruffling his hair, and rested his chin back on his hand.

“I just woke up, it’s too early for flirting,” he said. His growly morning voice was giving Mingyu goosebumps, and it hurt, more than usual, that he couldn’t touch his boyfriend. 

“Hey,” Mingyu said, “I miss you.” 

“Uhn,” Jihoon said, squeezing his eyes shut, “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“Just like … think something, and then say it.” 

Mingyu laughed, not unkindly. 

“Dunno,” he said, “It’s easy,” Jihoon wrinkled his nose, “Okay, so it’s easy for me. Plus, I like it when you frown at me. It turns me on,” Jihoon scowled, “Yeah! Just like that!” 

Jihoon actually laughed then, and Mingyu beamed. 

“Here, practice,” Mingyu said, lifting one arm and settling it behind his head, “What are you thinking about right now?”

“Uhh,” Jihoon mumbled, his cheek pressed into his hand, “You.” 

Mingyu’s dumb, love-sick body reacted the same way it had the first time Jihoon had said something like that; his heart thudded in his chest and he blushed. He couldn’t contain his smile. 

“Yeah?” Mingyu teased, trying to act casual, “What about me?” 

“Wish you were here,” Jihoon said, pulling on his hoodie strings. 

“What would you do if I was?” 

Jihoon looked up at that, raising one eyebrow. Mingyu laughed, loud and happy, feeling giddy at the idea of being wanted by Jihoon. 

He’d been wanted by a lot of people in his life, but none of them had made him feel quite like Jihoon did. Jihoon’s attention felt cool and comforting, like the first snow of winter, and Mingyu wanted to bask in it with his arms outstretched, letting the big soft flakes melt against his hot skin. 

Jihoon laughed with him, and Mingyu watched his shoulders relax. Jihoon yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. It was so adorable that it caused Mingyu physical pain, like seeing a kitten fall asleep standing up. He let out a small whine and Jihoon scrunched up his nose. 

“What?” 

“Sometimes I wish I was a kangaroo so I could keep you in my pouch like a joey,” Mingyu blurted out. Jihoon got that sort of faraway look on his face like he usually got when he was questioning how he ended up with Mingyu. Then he tugged hard on his hoodie strings and screwed his eyes shut. 

“Oh,  _ fuck, _ ” he said. 

“What?” Mingyu asked. Jihoon tugged harder on the hoodie strings, so his mouth was covered. He looked into the camera with wide, distressed eyes. He tugged the hood back open just far enough to grumble, 

“I’m in love with you.” 

Mingyu froze. 

“Uhhh one more time please?” Mingyu said, cupping his hand around his ear. 

“Noo,” Jihoon whined, “You heard me. Don’t make me say it again.” 

“You  _ love  _ me?” Mingyu asked, leaning in close to his laptop, squinting at the camera. Jihoon nodded almost imperceptibly. Mingyu felt hot tears gather in the corners of his eyes, so he covered his face with his hands. 

“Are you crying?” he heard Jihoon say gently. Mingyu nodded, his eyes still covered, “Good crying?” Mingyu nodded again, “Oh, baby.” Jihoon said, voice soft and kind. 

Mingyu wiped at his eyes and looked at Jihoon. 

“I just feel so lucky, you know?” 

Jihoon nodded, his lips pressed together in a tight line. 

“Sometimes,” Jihoon said, tracing the grain of the desk with his finger, “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real.” 

Mingyu laughed. 

“I know, me too,” he said, leaning in close. Wanting to be near Jihoon but knowing that was impossible. 

“I want to keep you, keep this,” Jihoon said, still not looking up, “I think we’re good together.” 

“We are,” Mingyu agreed. 

“I’m scared,” Jihoon admitted in a whisper. 

“Of what?”

“Losing this. The more I get used to it, the more afraid I am that it’s all gonna go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Ahh,” Jihoon groaned, pulling on his hoodie strings again. 

“You hate talking about this, don’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Jihoon said with a breathy laugh, “I really do.” 

“Just tell me you know I’m not going anywhere, and we can stop,” Mingyu said. 

“Okayyy. I guess I do know that. I trust you. But, you could die. Or I could die. Or you could hit your head and get amnesia and forget me.” 

“Yikes,” Mingyu said. Jihoon stuck his tongue out. Mingyu grinned. 

“Never had anything I was this afraid of losing before.” 

“Says the man with the successful music career,” Mingyu teased, because he couldn’t help himself. Jihoon frowned. 

“That’s different. It feels like … I don’t know. Piano is just who I am. I’d be playing no matter what. You’re different. I’m scared I’ll mess this up. Scared I … scared I won’t be what you deserve.”

“That’s stupid,” Mingyu scoffed, and Jihoon sighed. “No. Listen. It’s  _ so  _ stupid. Because I love you so much. I love everything about you. I’m pretty sure if they did a CT scan of my heart, the only thing they’d find in there would be you, playing the piano and making fun of me,” Jihoon scoffed, “I’m serious! And you’re  _ not _ going to mess this up. Just keep being exactly who you are and I’ll keep loving you, okay?” 

Jihoon looked frantic. He rubbed at his nose and coughed into his fist. 

“I uh…” he said, his voice thick, “I gotta go eat.” He disconnected the call. 

Mingyu rolled his eyes and shut his laptop. Ten minutes later his phone buzzed. 

**Jihoon** : Sorry, I panicked. 

**Jihoon** : I love you, though. 

**Jihoon** : god that feels weird to write down and look at 

**Jihoon** : good weird

**Mingyu** : I know :) 

**Mingyu** : Thank you for saying it, tho

**Mingyu** : I love you, too :) :) 

When Mingyu woke up the next morning, he had a string of new texts from Jihoon. 

**Jihoon** : Okay I’m bad at this so forgive me but I was thinking about you and I wanted to say nice things like we practiced so … here: 

**Jihoon** : I like the way your mouth moves when you talk 

I like the way your hands always feel warm against my skin

I like how when you’re near me, you’re always touching me. You make me feel safe. 

I like the way you look at me when I make you laugh 

I like the way you think, how you read people so well. 

I like how hard you love. I like that you’re loyal to the people that matter to you.

I like that you can fit a whole pancake in your mouth. 

I like your lips. 

I like your legs. Your thighs. I like your tummy. God, you’re seriously the hottest person I’ve ever seen. 

I love you, Kim Mingyu. 

And good morning. I hope you have a good day 

**Mingyu** : you like my thighs? 

**Jihoon** : that’s what stuck out to you? 

**Mingyu** : what can i say, I’m superficial 

**Jihoon** : no, you’re not 

**Mingyu** : okay no 

**Mingyu** : i’ve just never been given that much jihoon love all at once. It took a minute to process 

**Jihoon** : ah. too much? 

**Mingyu** : NO! Pls shower me w/ affection i’m always down especially when its from you 

**Jihoon** : you deserve it!

**Mingyu** : who are you and what have you done with my cranky boyfriend? 

**Jihoon** : fuck right off

**Mingyu** : !!

**Mingyu** : i love you so much 

**Mingyu** : is it okay, that I say that all the time? 

**Jihoon** : obviously yes 

**Jihoon** : is it okay that sometimes I can’t? 

**Mingyu** : yes, god. It makes it more special when you do say it 

**Mingyu** : i gotta get to work, but uh, you made my day 

**Mingyu** : call me later tho, I love you 

**Jihoon** : ditto, big guy 

* * *

**March 18th:**

On Wednesday evening, Mingyu got home around six-thirty, with two arms full of groceries. He kicked the front door shut behind him and called out to Minghao that he was home. He put his bags down and shrugged off his coat, hanging it up by the door next to his keys. He turned to see Minghao shuffling into the living room, wearing his glasses and a set of silky navy blue pajamas. 

“Good morning,” Mingyu said, and Minghao groaned. 

“I took a hell nap after class,” he grumbled, stumbling sideways into the couch. 

“I can see that,” Mingyu said, picking up his brown grocery bags, “Help me make dinner?” 

“Buh,” Minghao said, but he followed Mingyu into the kitchen, so he took that as a yes. 

Minghao’s “help” turned out to be him sitting on the counter, cross-legged, drinking tea and blinking owlishly while Mingyu cooked around him and sang along to his Red Velvet playlist. Halfway through  _ Zimzalabim,  _ Minghao groaned and stretched his long legs out, his joints popping. 

“Where’s Jihoon today?” he asked with a yawn, setting his mug down next to him. Mingyu smiled down at the vegetables he was chopping. 

“Berlin,” he said, “He sent me pictures of some sick street art. I’ll show you later.”

“Sweet,” Minghao said, “I’ve always wanted to go to Berlin.” 

“We should go,” Mingyu said excitedly, “All the 97s. We’ll take turns taking pictures of your street looks.” 

Minghao smiled sleepily. 

“That’d be sick,” he agreed, picking up his phone and scrolling through his notifications. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the kitchen were the sounds of Mingyu cooking and the music. It felt comfortable, familiar. 

“I like him,” Minghao said, suddenly, “If you were wondering. I like Jihoon. I think he’s good for you.” 

“Oh,” Mingyu said, looking up in surprise, “Thanks. I like him too.” 

“Still love me best though, right?” Minghao said with a cheesy grin, kicking his leg against Mingyu’s side.

“Course,” Mingyu laughed, grabbing Minghao’s foot and shaking it. He’d known Minghao since freshman year of college, almost six years now, and they’d been living together for the last three. They made a good team, always quietly supporting each other, and rarely fighting over anything more serious than whose turn it was to clean the bathroom. 

“When do I get to meet your boy?” Mingyu said, feeling very much like a mom as he gestured at Minghao with a wooden spoon. Minghao shrugged, his cheeks a little pink, and looked down at his phone, “I don’t even know his name!” 

“Ah,” Minghao said, kicking his heels against the cabinets, “Seokmin.”  
“Is that all I get?” Mingyu asked, stirring the pasta on the stove. 

“What else do you wanna know?” 

“What’s he like? Is he cute? Where’d you meet him?” 

“Uhh, he’s nice, he’s really pretty, and I met him in my Queer Lit class,” Minghao said, his cheeks getting redder, “And, um, he’s … loud.” 

“Loud?” Mingyu said, turning towards Minghao and raising his eyebrows.

“Ahh!” Minghao groaned, “Not like that, you freak. Like, all the time loud. His laugh, and he yells a lot when he’s excited. And he sings. He’s got a really nice voice.” 

“He sounds really good,” Mingyu said. 

“He’s the best,” Minghao agreed, and Mingyu looked over at him. He was smiling down at his phone. Mingyu smiled to himself and turned back to their dinner. 

After they ate, they watched some TV, then Minghao worked on homework in the living room while Mingyu played video games. Finally, after a few hours, the alarm on Mingyu’s phone rang, announcing that it was after 8 in Berlin, which meant Jihoon was awake and Mingyu was allowed to bug him. He said goodnight to Minghao and slipped into his room, closing the door and leaping into his bed. 

He pulled out his phone to call Jihoon, only to see that Jihoon was already calling him. He answered the call immediately, and was giggling with giddy joy when it connected.

“Hiiiii,” he said, feeling silly and lightheaded. Jihoon chuckled. 

“Hey,” Jihoon said, “You sound happy.” 

“I am!” Mingyu said, rolling onto his stomach and kicking up his feet like a teenage girl in an 80’s movie, “How’s Berlin?” 

“Hmm,” Jihoon said, yawning, “S’okay. People are weird. Food is good. Heavy. Lots of potatoes,” there was rustling that told Mingyu that Jihoon was still in bed. He smiled, even though the thought gave him a vague empty ache, because he wanted so badly to be cuddled up next to Jihoon, and he had no idea when that would happen again. 

“I called, cause, uh,” Jihoon said, “I wanted to tell you that I just got into a grad school program. For piano. I applied in January, and I just heard back today.”

Mingyu’s heart sank. Grad school meant settling down somewhere. And he obviously hadn’t told Mingyu because it meant more time apart, with Jihoon in some far away European city, and Mingyu here in Boston. 

“Oh,” Mingyu said, then cleared his throat, “Oh! Baby! Congratulations! That’s amazing! What, um, what school?” 

“That’s actually the thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Jihoon said, and Mingyu started to feel sick, bracing himself for Jihoon to tell him that he couldn’t do this anymore, “It’s ah, NEC.” 

Mingyu sat up so fast he dropped his phone. He scrambled through his sheets for it and held it back up to his ear with shaking hands. 

“ _ Repeat that _ ,” he said, breathless. 

“NEC? New England Conservatory?” Jihoon said. 

“But. That’s here? In Boston? Where I am?” Jihoon laughed a little at that. 

“Yes,” he said, “They have one of the best classical music programs in the country and I thought, maybe it would be nice to be in one place for a while.” 

“And that one place,” Mingyu said very slowly, “Just so I have this right. Is Boston. Where I live.” 

“Yes, Mingyu,” Jihoon repeated, then paused for a long few seconds, “Is that okay?” Mingyu laughed at the sheer absurdity of the question. Then he started to cry. 

“Mingyu?” Jihoon asked, and Mingyu couldn’t answer, couldn’t stop himself from sniffling, “Oh,” Jihoon said, when he realized Mingyu was crying, “Stupid,” he said, quiet and fond. 

“‘M your stupid,” Mingyu mumbled through his tears. 

“Yeah,” Jihoon said, laughing gently, “You are.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Paris in the Rain by Lauv
> 
> twitter: [@yoongis_dad](https://twitter.com/yoongis_dad)


	6. so, babe, please be my finale

When Jihoon’s plane landed in Boston at the end of May, Mingyu was waiting in arrivals at Logan Airport. No sign, no flowers, just him. 

The “No Flowers” plan had been Minghao’s idea. 

“What’s Jihoon’s favorite thing?” Minghao had said when Mingyu had asked him what he should bring to the airport. 

“Uhh...music?” Mingyu guessed. 

“No, dummy, it’s you,” Minghao said, and Mingyu pushed him, “No, really. I’ve seen

the way he looks at you. It’s you. That’s all you gotta bring.” 

So, no flowers. Just Mingyu. Every 30 seconds, he pulled out his phone to check the time and to see if Jihoon had texted him, even though the screen on the wall above him said that Jihoon’s plane was still fifteen minutes out. 

His fingers tapped relentlessly against his thigh. It felt strange to be so afraid of the only thing he’d wanted for the past five months, but he couldn’t help it. What if he’d changed and Jihoon didn’t want him anymore? 

When Jihoon’s plane was five minutes away, he went to the bathroom, fixed his hair and double-checked that he had nothing stuck in his teeth. He went back out and stood with the group of people gathered at arrivals. There wasn’t a large crowd, just an older couple, a dad with three young children, and a girl around Mingyu’s age. 

Mingyu kept glancing at the couple and smiling at the way the smaller woman leaned into the arms of the taller one. He caught their eye once or twice and tried to convey through facial expressions that he, too, was a friendly gay, but he wasn’t sure how well that was coming across. 

Right before Jihoon’s plane landed, Mingyu glanced over at the young girl, and saw she was staring back at him. When their eyes met, she smiled and stepped closer. 

“You waiting for the London flight?” 

“Yeah,” Mingyu answered with a friendly smile. The girl took another step towards him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Me too,” she said, looking up at him, “I’m picking up my sister. Who are you waiting for?” 

“My boyfriend!” Mingyu said, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face at the word. 

He watched the girl’s face go through the five stages of grief in rapid succession before she settled into a polite smile. 

“Oh!” she said, too cheerily, “That’s great!” 

Mingyu fought the urge to apologize, not for being gay, but for disappointing her. She seemed really nice. He looked back up at the older ladies and caught the eye of the smaller one, who was watching the exchange and giggling quietly, her hand covering her mouth.

There was an awkward pause after that, so Mingyu brought his phone out and showed the girl his lockscreen: a picture of Jihoon looking snarly in front of Buckingham Palace. 

“This is him!” Mingyu said happily. The girl looked at the phone and genuinely smiled. Behind him, he heard the older lady laugh again, and her wife shushed her. 

“He’s cute!” The girl said, and to her credit, her voice only sounded slightly strained. Mingyu beamed, proudly. 

“I know!” 

The opaque sliding-glass doors opened, and people started to trickle out. A tall, handsome young guy pushed through the crowd and ran into the older ladies’ outstretched arms. They were tiny next to him, but the three of them fit together perfectly; a matched set. 

Mingyu saw Jihoon before Jihoon saw him. He trailed slightly behind the crowd, passport in hand, dressed all in black, expensive lounge clothes that made him look equal parts cozy and handsome. 

Mingyu felt Jihoon’s presence like a blow to the chest. He felt desperate, giddy, and he thought that maybe that was the best moment of his life so far. And then Jihoon looked up and saw him and smiled and Mingyu changed his mind.  _ That  _ was the best moment of his life. 

_ Oh my god,  _ Mingyu thought, a sudden realization ringing in his skull like a church bell,  _ He’s it for me. He’s the one.  _

Mingyu was in front of Jihoon in three strides. He hesitated, not sure if Jihoon wanted to be touched in public, but Jihoon grabbed the front of Mingyu’s jacket and pulled him down into an eager kiss. 

Stars exploded behind Mingyu’s eyelids and his hands shook as he brought them up to cradle the back of Jihoon’s head. They pulled back after a moment, and Mingyu rested his forehead against Jihoon’s. 

“Hi,” he said, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. 

“Hi,” Jihoon said back, smiling sweetly. 

“You’re really here,” Mingyu whispered, and Jihoon laughed. 

“Yeah,” he said, “I am.” 

“S-sorry,” Mingyu stammered, his lisp betraying him again, “I think my brain is broken.” Jihoon laughed again, and Mingyu wanted to freeze time, bask in that sound forever. 

“Hey,” Jihoon whispered, tilting his head to the side, “Why’s that girl staring at us?” 

Mingyu looked up just in time to see the girl from earlier look away abruptly. 

“Oh!” Mingyu said, “She’s nice. I talked to her earlier. I think she was hitting on me, though. She looked a little sad when I said I had a boyfriend. I felt kinda bad, actually.” Mingyu saw the frown on Jihoon’s face and giggled, “And you don’t feel bad at all, do you?” 

Jihoon smirked, cocking his head. 

“Nope,” he said, tugging Mingyu back down for another, deeper kiss, “Can we go home now?”

“Hell yes,” Mingyu said, grabbing Jihoon’s suitcase with one hand, and Jihoon’s hand with the other. As they passed the older ladies and their son, Mingyu smiled, and the shorter one gave him a friendly nod and a small wave. 

* * *

They took a cab to Mingyu’s apartment. Although now, he guessed it was technically Mingyu and Jihoon’s apartment. That still felt new enough that Mingyu smiled every time he thought about it. 

Minghao had moved in with his new boyfriend Seokmin last weekend, and Mingyu had called Jihoon and nervously asked him if he wanted to move into the spare room. The ten minutes Jihoon had taken to think about it were the longest of Mingyu’s life, but then Jihoon had called back and calmly asked if there was space for a piano in Minghao’s room. 

“Seungkwan kept texting me about my flight information,” Jihoon said, standing on the sidewalk as Mingyu lifted his suitcase out of the trunk of the car, “I was a little scared that everyone would be at the airport.” 

“Oh, he tried,” Mingyu said, slapping Jihoon’s hand away when he tried to reach for his own bag, “But I wouldn’t let them come.” 

“Thanks,” Jihoon said, following Mingyu up the stairs. Mingyu paused at the apartment door and looked at Jihoon over his shoulder. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a crowd of their friends gathered in the living room, Seungkwan at the front, holding a cake with messy frosting that read ‘Welcome Home, Jihoon!’. When they saw him, they all cheered. 

“Surprise!” Mingyu said, holding the door open for Jihoon, who stood, frozen in the doorway. Mingyu watched his face nervously, afraid that this was too much, but to his surprise, Jihoon blushed and smiled. 

Seungkwan took that as permission enough, and handed the cake to Wonwoo and Seungcheol before running forward and scooping Jihoon up into a big hug. 

“Welcome back!” he yelled, and Jihoon patted him on the shoulder. He pulled Jihoon with him into the apartment, and Jihoon looked around at Mingyu, who gave him an apologetic shrug and smile. 

“I couldn’t stop them,” Mingyu called over the other voices that were greeting Jihoon. Jihoon scowled at him, but it didn’t look too sincere. 

While everyone else was taking turns greeting Jihoon, Mingyu stood back, just enjoying the feeling of having his boyfriend home and safe. Jungkook and Minghao came and stood by him, one on either side, Jungkook bumping their shoulders together. 

“Happy?” he asked, and Mingyu sighed, putting his arms around both boys. His anchors. 

“God, yes,” he sighed. Minghao wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him hard. 

* * *

That night, after everyone had left, Mingyu scooped Jihoon up off the couch and carried him to their bed. He complained about being too tired to move, so Mingyu undressed him and tugged one of his own t-shirts on over Jihoon’s head, both of them giggling the whole time. 

Their giggles quickly melted into kisses. Mingyu was so over-the-moon ecstatic to have his best boy back that he couldn’t hold himself back. He kissed and licked every inch of Jihoon’s skin that he could reach, making him laugh and shove at him right up until Mingyu reached his dick and took him into his mouth. Then Jihoon just softly whined and played with Mingyu’s hair as Mingyu hummed happily around him. He let Jihoon come in his mouth, then kissed him slowly and refused Jihoon’s offer to reciprocate. 

“We have time, baby,” he said, “You need to sleep.” 

Mingyu left to go brush his teeth, and when he came back, Jihoon was under the covers, cheek pressed against Mingyu’s pillow. Mingyu stood in the doorway for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight of Jihoon in his bed, looking like he belonged there. 

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna come lie down?” Jihoon mumbled with his eyes still closed. Mingyu laughed. 

“Just enjoying the view,” Mingyu said, before turning the light off and climbing into bed. 

“That’s gay,” Jihoon said, opening one eye and smiling. 

“You’re gay,” Mingyu said, scooting closer and wrapping his arms around Jihoon. Jihoon snuggled in close to him, nuzzling his nose against his neck. 

“Very,” Jihoon said, his breath on Mingyu’s neck giving him goosebumps all over his body. 

“Was today okay?” Mingyu asked, playing with Jihoon’s hair. Jihoon nodded, his nose bumping against Mingyu’s skin. 

“If you tell Seungkwan, I’ll have to kill you, but,” he said softly, “But. I, um, think today was the best day of my life.” 

Mingyu didn’t know what to say to that, so he just squeezed Jihoon closer, so that their whole bodies were pressed together. Jihoon yawned, then mumbled something Mingyu couldn’t hear. 

“Hm?” 

Jihoon leaned back, repeated himself, louder this time. 

“Feel like I’m home.”

Mingyu kissed him on his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. 

“You are,” he said, “You are, you are, you are.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a ride! this was my first full fic i've posted and the response has been awesome - thank you all so much for loving my boys along with me! 
> 
> the chapter title for this one is from Finale by Day6
> 
> come talk to me about cute boys on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/yoongis_dad)


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